


Between Night and Day

by Xombie_Necrone



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Amnesia, Anger, Assassination, Betrayal, Blood Drinking, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, Dawnguard, Dragons, F/F, F/M, Lesbian Sex, Magic-Users, Prison, Racism, Romance, Sacrifice, Sexual Content, Torture, Trauma, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Violence, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-11-28 18:46:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 203,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xombie_Necrone/pseuds/Xombie_Necrone
Summary: Nova Moonshade, the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood has worked to earn her way to lead through betrayal and blood. Everything was going well until Arturius Raz'sagal from the Dawnguard started hunting her down. However, not everything is as clear as night and day.





	1. Crossed Blades

 

A dark figure in an equally aphotic, early morning leaned against the chicken coop of the farm, waiting patiently. The woman in black gazed up at the star filled sky. The moons were empty, leaving two noticeable black patches among the countless pinpricks of light. A gentle wind carried with it a slight chill, causing the stalker in black to tuck a few untamed strands of her white hairs behind her ear.

Nova appreciated the tranquil atmosphere until the calm air was shattered by shouting and yelling between a husband and wife, followed by glass breaking. Still, she waited patiently, unconcerned with either one's safety. A heavy backhand was followed up with a body crumpling to the floor. The woman was now sobbing, pleading for him to stop. It was little wonder why Nova was hired. Although, it would have been cheaper for the wife to just poison his food or slit his throat while he slept. It mattered little though. Killing was what Nova was best at so why not get paid for it?

When the wooden door creaked open, light spilled out of the distraught house, but nowhere near where the stalker was. A tall, dark elf stumbled to the porch and down the creaking steps. It wasn't even dawn and he was already shitfaced. With extended effort, he managed to stagger to the barn where he was mumbling under his breath a string of obscenities about his spouse. It would have been so easy to launch an arrow from her ebony bow into his back. However, the terms of the contract would have to be met first before doing such a thing. Favors were not granted in this line of work.

With the coast clear, Nova silently made her way to the door of the house; her shadow making more noise than her. In the kitchen, behind the overturned table sat a woman curled up in the corner. One eye was purple and swollen shut, unable to see through it. Nova could hear the woman's heart beat pounding, making her fangs wet with thirst. The elf whimpered upon seeing her guest in black, too petrified to move.

“You performed the Black Sacrament,” Nova exclaimed with a soft, silky voice, making sure not to expose her elongated teeth. “The Dark Brotherhood has answered your prayer.”

The elf gulped heavily, nervous as she was bruised. “P-p-please...I just want him to stop,” she pleaded. “I don't want him dead. Just – ”

“You don't summon the likes of me unless you want someone dead,” Nova said sharply, making the contact flinch with her raised tone. “A soul is going to the void. If you don't want him dead, you will simply take his place. Either way, he will stop.”

The Dunmer's good eye dilated with fear, her breath quickened in kind. The assassin tapped her foot, waiting impatiently for a response that didn't take a scholar to figure out. The choice should have been simple. Who would want to be beaten and abused, so much that one would pray for this only to not go through with it?

Before a decision could be made, stumbling footsteps made their way up the porch. The assassin turned around, resting her palm on the hilt of her treasured dagger. The husband's eyes were reddened, both from his dark elf lineage and the ale. His breath foul as he spoke with a slur. “Who the hell are you?”

“I am here on business, the likes of which is none of yours,” Nova coolly stated, amused by the elf's ignorance over who she was.

“Business?” he repeated before looking at his terrified wife. “The hell kinda business? You thinkin'a leaving me, you bitch!?”

He stomped right past the pale haired guest, grabbing his wife once again. Again, a heavy backhand met bruised flesh, causing it to split open. Blood flowed from the swollen eyebrow, a scarlet brook forking with the one emanating from her nose.

Sighing heavily, Nova took matters into her own hands when she grabbed the man's raised fist and shoved him against the wall. “The business she had with me was not about leaving you. It was about making sure she was safe from you, once and for all.” The panic stirring in the elf made his heart beat heavily, causing the vein in his neck pulsate. She licked the throbbing vein and exposed her fangs. “I would run if I were you,” Nova hissed in the pointed ear.

As she released the grip on his arm, the drunken Dunmer stumbled, more so out of fear than inebriation. When he was out the door, Nova turned back to face the contact who made the wicked prayer. She knelt down, inspecting the wounds on the battered woman. The assassin pulled out a rag and a vial of dark, blue liquid from her side pouch. With a few shakes of the phial onto the cloth, Nova gently cleaned up the cut with the stained cloth. The wound sealed instantly, turning the bright red into a dark purple when mixed with the medicine.

When it came to alchemy, there are two sides of the coin. Along with the medicine, Nova had a deadly assortment of poisons as well. Paralyzing agents that are nonlethal, some that would halt the magic of any accomplished wizard, and her favored poison; one that would turn organs into liquid in a matter of minutes. Just a few drops on a dagger or arrow would do anyone under. She tested it on a few animals and when a rabbit turned to chum, the assassin knew she found the right ingredients and mixture. But that was reserved for special targets. This dirt farmer warranted no such honor.

Nova stood up, pilfering the medicine and rag back into her side pouch. “I expect payment after he is dead. Whatever you can afford,” she offered kindly despite the chill in her voice. There was a tinge of sympathetic weakness, knowing she probably had little money to offer.

The battered housewife wiped away the tear from her good eye and nodded, understanding what was going to happen. “Thank you,” she whimpered ever so slightly, the tone in her voice having some spirit revived.

Nova didn't reply as she spun around, yearning for the hunt. It was more satisfying to track one's prey down than to just flat out kill. The added fear made their blood taste all the more better and dark elf blood was her second favorite. It had a spicy flavor to it that was to her liking. The creature of the night went outside, creeping down the steps onto the cold ground. The disheveled prints made it hard to see which ones were the most recent. Instead, she focus on the noises around her; from the chickens clucking about in the coop to the cows snoring lazily in the pen. Amidst the farm animals, there was a faint, but rabid heartbeat hiding in the brush.

Nova cracked her knuckles, approaching where the heartbeat was pounding with ever increasing fervor. A small fire bolt launched out from where the elf was. The blast of heat was easily evaded by the assassin. For a dark elf, it was weak, as expected from a farmer. He scurried out on the road, frightened by the stalker. The poor sap was now out in the open, making him a much easier target for the taking. Nova grasped her favorite bow, black as the leather she wore. With a notched arrow, she aimed carefully down the shaft, taking in the direction of the wind, how fast the mark was moving; all of which became second nature. The projectile soared, whistling slightly as it cut through the air and buried itself in the right calf.

Nova smirked, appreciating the skill it took for a shot in the dark like that. Although, it wasn't exactly dark for her vampiric eyes. The greyskin was now crawling away, begging for mercy in the hopes that it would be granted. His fate was sealed, rather he knew it or not. The assassin sauntered over, taking her sweet time and letting him relish in the pain he so well deserved.

“Please!” he begged, releasing the buried arrow and holding up his blood soaked hands in fear. “I will pay you anything!”

Nova shook her head in amusement. No one has been able to buy themselves out of a Dark Brotherhood contract. Their lives were forfeit was the deal was made and Sithis was due a soul. With the dagger unsheathed, she didn't want to waste anymore time. “The Dark Brotherhood has come for you.” The last thing he saw was blood draining from his neck from the blade slicing across his neck. It pooled onto the cold ground, freezing within seconds. “Another successful contract,” Nova said coldly as she wiped her treasured dagger from the blood of her latest victim.

The night was cold and snow started to lightly fall. Dawn was well over an hour away but there wasn't any need to hurry. All she had to do now was report back to the person who hired her and get paid. Simple as that. Instead, the assassin sat down on a frostbitten rock and polished her still blood stained dagger.

She looked at her cherished weapon and when she saw her mirror image, it made her reflect on her own life of mystery. All she could remember was what she was taught when she first joined the Dark Brotherhood. How to caress the darkness like a lover, the ingredients used to make a poison to kill or just subdue for more torturous reasons. All that led up to the betrayal that now made Nova leader of the family. Anything before joining the guild of killers was an enigma she never cared much about. All that mattered is what she learned and what laid ahead. Since she was still alive in a manner of speaking, the pale haired Nord learned well.

Before Nova sheathed the black blade, she frowned slightly at the gift that was given to her by her mentor and former leader. It was because of Astrid that nearly all was lost. She didn't want Nova as the Listener nor the Night Mother as the matron to the Dark Brotherhood. It was selfish desire for power that lead to the downfall of the family. But through the ashes rose Nova. As long as she lived, so would the Dark Brotherhood.

The destruction of her home still haunted her to this very day. Festus pinned to a tree with dozens of arrows for amusement, Veezara butchered to pieces, and Gabriella was burned alive. The first one she noticed alive was Arnbjorn, the werewolf husband of Astrid. He took down so many of the soldiers that invaded their sanctuary before the blood loss was too much. Only Nazir and Babette made it out alive during the massacre. Until Nova saw a body moving, burnt beyond all recognition. Even the eyes were husks. But it was Astrid's voice that croaked from the body. Despite the sorrow for where her actions led the tragic events, there wasn't any redemption for betrayal. Nova put an end to Astrid's suffering with that very knife that was now passed on down to her; the Blade of Woe.

Nova snapped back from her daydream, slightly perturbed over a noise. She clutched her ebony bow and with blurred hands in one fluid motion, had an arrow poised a snow powdered bush. The bowstring was pulled taut and held steady as death itself. She gazed unblinking, waiting for another source of noise. A bead of sweat started to form, from a tiny gleam to a full on drop. It slithered down the left side of her temple, leaving a chilling trail in the night air.

There was someone there but she couldn't make out anything except a heartbeat. A rapid one at that. Nervous and afraid. Just the way she likes them. Her fingers released the tension, letting the arrow soar. There was a familiar sound of flesh being pierced followed by a light thud. She stalked the hidden target to inspect what had so compromised her resolve.

“A rabbit….Are you kidding me?” Nova said aloud. She felt both relief and anger even though she stressed out over her ‘dangerous threat’. The bow was shrugged onto her back and she knelt down, struggling to pull the arrow free from the rabbit. The assassin finally tore it out along with a few entrails. After haphazardly using the rabbit's fur to clean the remains off the arrow, Nova stuck it back into her quiver. She wasn't hungry enough to eat it at the moment.

She brushed her snow kissed hair back behind her ear and then tossed her black hood on. She started to head out on the path to return back to the contract. Dawn was approaching and Nova did not want to be caught out in the open. The sun was not an ally for an assassin, nor a vampire. When she started down the road, moving silently without effort, Nova noticed heavy foot prints.

The prints were too heavy from how deep they were to be the target's. Judging by the size, whoever it may be was big. Although Nova wasn't small, compared to who made these made her feel that way. Nova stayed on guard and kept her hand on the Razor. She felt something wrong. She kept her senses attuned and sharp, not wanting to get surprised.

She assured herself that someone that big could not catch the likes of her off-guard. After relaxing a bit, Nova strolled along the tundra. Even for an undead Nord, it was still cold. Nova shivered slightly, not sure if was from the frigid air or just her unsettling nerves. The uneasy feeling kept haunting her as if she were being followed.

A sharp pain suddenly struck her in the shoulder. The arrow head penetrated deep enough to where the tip was sticking out through her collarbone. Nova tucked into a roll out of instinct and felt the arrow rip further into her muscles. Luckily, the cold working towards her favor, both to staunch the bleeding and to feel discomfort instead of agony. She leaned up against a tree, took in a deep breath as she slammed her back into the bark, forcing the arrow to protrude further out to get a better grip. She grasped the shaft with both hands and tore it through, almost passing out from the pain. The blood soaked arrow was tossed to the side in a fit of rage.

Anger swept over Nova, wondering who had the audacity to perform such an act on her...and the skill to catch her off guard. She gritted her teeth as she reached into the side pouch she kept filled with deadly poisons and useful potions. She learned some useful skills mixing plants, bones and other such ingredients to suit her malevolent duties and, in the rare cases like this, survival. She raised the bottle to her mouth and bit the cork, tugging it free and spitting it out. She poured the salve, thick from the cold onto her fingers. She closed her eyes tight and clenched her free hand till they were white knuckled as she rubbed the dark red ointment on her wound. The heart of a daedra with a sabrecat eye was one of her favorite combinations. The smell itself was splendid and it is great at stopping infections while numbing the pain. The wound started to seal, preventing any more blood loss.

The vampire leaned to peer into the darkness to see where the attack originated from. Squinting into the void, she focused until it seemed like day. Still, nothing could be seen. She hit the tree in frustration wondering who it was that infuriated her so. The only clue she has was the arrow. Nova reached down and grabbed it, inspecting it carefully. Her heart would have stopped if she wasn’t already undead, but still felt the initial shock from her discovery. It was not an arrow from a bow but from something else. It was thicker, shorter. Able to penetrate metal it seemed. What bow could shoot such a projectile almost intrigued her.

* * *

Arturius Ras’zagal rotated his left shoulder to loosen up his shield arm, stiff from the encounter he had the previous night. Damn bandits were harassing a group of innocent travelers. That was, until he showed up. Although the dark elf hated killing, it cannot be helped when his hand is forced. Except of course, vampires and anyone else who delved into the black arts.

The armored Dunmer felt better once the cold air hit his sore joints. He grunted as he reached into his side pouch to procure a wrinkled note given to him by a mysterious sage of sorts. She not only gave him information on deadly vampire but also an imbued sword that thrummed with could only be described as sacred or holy energy. His blood red eyes read the note again, memorizing every word:

 _14th_ _of Sun’s Dusk Nilheim, wait for dusk to set._

“ _Still have a little ways to go,” h_ e thought to himself. Arturius said his prayers to the Beacon of Stendarr, stood up on his feet and walked out of the temple with determined resolve. The steel clad elf looked up into the night sky; his long, dark hair flowed freely with the frigid air. He grasped the Dawnbreaker that has never left his side and then felt for his crossbow, always poised and ready. Although he preferred combat up close, vampires were better taken out from a distance. Their vicious attacks could infect anyone and twist their minds into something they’re not.

The dry snow crunched with each step. Heavy thuds cracked the icy road. How anyone would actually want to live in this wasteland was beyond his reasoning. Keeping a steady pace and braving the freezing temperatures, Arturius came across a small group of people; four Nords to be exact. Laughter could be heard and caught himself in the middle of a conversation.

“Aye, lad. Ya should of seen the look on ‘is face when I told em ‘bout the road tax. Started ta stutter ‘bout not knowin’ ‘bout it. Bwa ha ha ha!” A guttural laugh howled from the throat of a clean shaven blonde. Arturius kept his pace, not wanting to start confrontation, keeping to his goal.

“Yah, dumb grey skins be thinkin’ the likes of their kind are welcome here.” The bald but red bearded Nord snorted and hocked out a gob of spit on the ground. “Like we would eva bow down to their ways. Talos be divined an’ they juss up and not only forsake ‘im but demand we do tha same.”

The third native, with wild dark hair was sitting down on a frozen yet moss covered log was warming himself to the crackling fire, joined in with a scoff. “Pfft…Once we kick the jester of an empire outta our homeland, we ca-“ His voice was cut off by the blonde.

“Well now, looky who we ‘ave ‘ere.” The Nord puffed his chest up, approaching Arturius. ”A grey skin out wondering out all by ‘iself.”

Arturius could smell the ale on his breath along with the resentment toward his kind. He bit his bottom lip in anticipation of what could happen. Still, he tried the diplomatic approach first. “Excuse me, I am just passing through. I mean no disrespect.”

The last Nord kept silent this whole time, glared with his dark brown eye, the other being milky white. They all gathered around, circling him, measuring him up.

The red bearded one stated, “Ya be disrespectin’ our homeland by bein’ ‘ere in the first place, lad. Why doncha juss go back where ya came from?”

The Nord that was sitting on a log shoved the Dunmer from behind. “My brother asked ya a question. Also, wherecha git that fancy armor from? Tis Nordic but ya ain’t no native.”

“Please.” More so for their safety than his, Arturius asked, “Let me be on my way. I have a daunting task ahead of me with little time to waste.” He gripped his thick shield tightly in preparation, taking a deep breath. He heard the sound of steel being unsheathed from behind but still, remained calm.

The Nord with one eye finally broke silence. “How about you hand over that armor and pocket of gold you have?” he said without the thick accent his company of friends had.

Arturius frowned and lowered his brow, “You do not wish for this confrontation. I am in no mood for a senseless fight. Let me be on my way... _Now._ ” He forced the last word out sternly, no longer caring about the repercussions.

Arturius heard the shout behind him and quickly raised his shield to deflect the overhead blow of a two handed axe coming down on him, Quickly, without second thought, he tilted his shield with precision, causing the heavy weapon to slide off into the red bearded Nord’s leg. He screamed in agony, falling over and trying to stop the bleeding by squeezing tightly around the wound with both hands.

The dark elf still kept his weapon sheathed but used his shield to bash the attacker with wild hair before he could regain his footing. He fell in the snow with a heavy thud, knocked out from the blow to the face. The blonde and the single eyed native were left.

“Oh…Now ya gone done it, grey skin,” the blonde one proclaimed. “Yer not be gittin’ outta here alive.”

The Nord charged in with his single sword, slashing wildly but each attack reflected with ease. Arturius remained stoic, using the lessons taught to him by a book he read. “ _It takes twice as much power to send force as it does to deflect it.”_ He kept blocking blow after blow till he saw the opening he was waiting for. As the Nord took pause to gain his breath, the elf swung his leg hard against his shin, hearing the unprotected bone break against the steel plating. The single Nord left standing was left speechless, unable to move except the shaking. Arturius gritted his teeth, not wanting to give into the desire to kill senselessly. Their hearts were ripe for the taking but he ignored the call of the wolf inside. “May I be on my way or do you want to be useless to help out your kin?” he growled through his teeth.

“I will let you pass, but next time we won’t go so easy on you, you grey bast-“ With blinding speed, the edge of the glowing sword was to the one eyed native’s throat.

“Call me that again, snow back, and you will reach Sovngarde in pieces. Understand?”

Silence was the only thing that could be heard except for the sound of liquid falling on the ground from the Nord’s leg. Arturius took that for an answer and put his weapon back into its scabbard. He rotated his shield arm again, trying to loosen the tight joint again. The Nord who got hit with the axe shouted at the one who urinated his pants, “Get ‘im, ya milk drinker! You call yourself a Nord! He’s just a damned elf!” But he was too petrified to even argue; realizing that he had beaten three of them without even drawing the blade that hummed with a soft glowing light.

Not wanting to be late, he hurried his pace, racing against the sunset toward his destination. He decided to cut off from the main road and into the wilderness to save some time. Climbing some small plateaus, crossing a small stream, he was feeling more worn out than usual. He finally saw his destination within sight and sighed with relief. Arturius trudged on through the snow and ice, finally getting back on the road. After scouting the area to see if his target was in sight, there were no signs. He brushed his damp hair back out of his face, parts frozen and stiff. Then he heard a sound, a solid thud from a distance away.

He sniffed the air and recognized the smell immediately…Blood. Dark elf blood. Arturius stalked the scent from the wind blowing, approaching ever so slowly. He hid in the brush, near a tree where he saw the woman he had been hunting. She matched the description that a lone survivor of her merciless killings had given…Tall. Slender. Ghost-white hair. Cloaked in darkness.

He kept still, steadying his heart and breath, biting his lip in anticipation. His pointed ears perked at the sound of rustling in the bush ahead. It smelled of rabbit. His mouth salivated from how long it has been from having a cooked meal. Almost losing concentration, Arturius shook his head to focus on the target, not on a rabbit hunt.

He watched as the target sprang into action from a sitting position to bow drawn in a flash. He tensed his shield arm up in second nature. Did she know where he was? He kept his breath low and slow. The arrow was released but nowhere close to where he was. Seemed to be the rabbit was her target.

The dark elf let out a sigh of relief. He watched with amazement as she didn’t walk but more stalked the dead animal. Not a sound to be heard from where she was to where she knelt down. The noble elf kept his breath silent as best he could, as to not give away his position. When she got up and started to walk away, he noticed the rabbit still intact. He wondered why she would kill it without eating it or even skin it for the fur. He shook the thoughts away and slowly gripped his crossbow as quietly as possible. He normally did not attack hidden from a distance but he could not risk losing her. The crossbow was aimed carefully at the killer. The hunter inhaled slowly and squeezed the trigger at the same time. The bolt let loose and soared through the air, reaching the assassin’s shoulder from behind.

“ _Finally got you_ ,” he whispered under his breath but that accomplishment was quickly lost. He watched as she moved with grace unparalleled by the Divines. She quickly tucked into a roll and disappeared in the brush. There was nothing worse than a wounded vampire. He stood up slowly, putting his crossbow away and secured his helmet before unsheathing his most trusted weapon. “ _Time to finish this, evil one.”_

Nova heard the footsteps that matched the tracks she found before. The puncture wasn't healing fast enough, despite her best potion. She tried in vain to move her arm but the pain limited her range of motion. It would prove too difficult for her to properly pull the drawstring of her bow. As much as she hated it, running away was looking to be the better option. She pulled out her gleaming dagger and looked at at it peer around the tree for a quick second. What she saw terrified her. He looked not like a human but a dark dwarven centurion.

“ _Gods, how could the likes of him ambush me?!”_ Nova screamed inside her mind. Deciding against her better judgment, she took a deep breath and decided to go on the offense this time. Nova pulled out a vial of clear liquid and chugged it fast and sat in wait. It didn't take long for the potion to have affect as light started to pass through her. Not only her skin was invisible but her clothes and gear as well. She clenched the dagger tightly and shuffled around the tree, avoiding as much of the crisp ice as possible till her predator was in sight.

The assassin moved like a shadow of a ghost, quickly leaving the spot where a puddle of her blood laid frozen. She was thankful her boots were enchanted to not leave tracks, no matter sand or snow. The heavy, metal footsteps approached the crimson soaked snow and the massive man knelt down. Was he sniffing the ground? Instead of figuring out why he was doing that, she approached him from behind, her dagger reaching around. Just a quick slash across the throat and it will all be over for the fool. Nova barely got her Razor past his ear when she felt a sudden shock of pain in her face from the back of his head slamming into her.

Nova absorbed as much of the force as possible by jumping with the blow and landed in a crouch, dagger still ready. She could feel wetness drip down her mouth. The heavily armored Dawnguard turned around, his glowing blade ready to cut through anything. She scanned him for weaknesses, any vulnerability she could exploit, but didn’t have enough time. He bent his knees and charged forward with speed unheard of from someone wearing that much armor. The assassin rolled under the attack and cut behind his knee joint. She could not understand how he could sense her so well. Even the most trained eye can't see an invisible target, much less, even in the dark.

Nova didn't waste time thinking about the whys or shoulds. She crouched down and rolled on the side with the shield to get another cut in from behind his leg, right in the joint where the armor is weakest. However, it seemed that was what the bastard was waiting for. The massive man swung his shield hard into her side, catching the shoulder of her good arm this time. There was not enough time to check if anything was broken. She fell hard on her other arm, still sore from the arrow earlier. She tried to recover but was at his mercy. Before Nova had time to get on her feet, her chest felt like it exploded and she was flying backward. A sharp pain rattled her head as everything went dark.

 


	2. Lost Chance

The hunter watched as her body was visible again, turning into a rag doll after she hit the tree. A sickening crack echoed in his ears. He thought the assassin's neck was broken from the throw. As he looked at the pale killer, he realized it was her bow that shattered, not her neck. He knelt down and pulled the hood back on the unconscious killer. Her white hair was messy from sweat but regardless, she appeared so innocent. Looks were deceiving.

The Dunmer slumped down next to her, exhausted from their brief battle. He took off his helmet and gauntlets so he could get the sweat drenched hair out of his eyes. He saw a slight glimmer in the snow and inspected it. After brushing the white powder away, Arturius gazed at the exquisite dagger before him. He picked it up and inspected the magnificent yet morbid artifact. The first thing that came to mind was how many people were killed by it. The second was where she got it from. It looked almost otherworldly. He hitched the dagger near his quiver of bolts and secured it, hoping maybe to get some gold for it.

The bitter cold was still getting to him and did not want his bounty to be killed. Justice would not be served if she was left this way nor was there any honor in killing her while she could not defend herself. He looked around and saw the watch tower of Nilheim.

“Divines, please be empty.” He scooped her up in his powerful arms and carried her to the stone structure. As he made his way inside, he could smell old ashes and wood. The hunter set down the vampire, not sure if she was dead or knocked out. A lack of a pulse did not signify anything and her body was already cold. Arturius stood next to the old camp fire and saw a pile of wood. He gathered a few logs and tossed them into the circle of rocks. With a stretched out arm, he opened his palm toward the firewood and let loose a stream of flame.

“That should keep us warm till morning but first...” Arturius reached to his right thigh and unhooked the iron cuffs. His rough hands grasped the vampiric Nord’s frail wrists and locked her first wrist then moved both her arms behind her and secured them both behind her back. Her injuries were quite severe. One shoulder was injured from the bolt he shot and her forearm had a broken bone. He was tired but still had enough energy to suture her wounds. He stood up and put his hands together, closing his eyes and took a deep breath. His hands started to spark with healing light and then radiated to a flare as he released it, focusing it on the silver haired assassin. Arturius then fell to his knees, one hand on the ground, the other holding his face. Trying to regain his composure, he instead crawled towards the campfire for a moment of respite.

Nova moaned softly, wondering where she was, the last thing she remembered was flying, She reached up and massaged her shoulder or at least, tried to. “ _Cuffs? How did I…What am I doing here?”_ She maneuvered her wrists around, trying to wriggle free. She pulled hard but to no avail. After giving up on that endeavor, she struggled to sit up. The warmth of the fire caught her off guard along with seeing the one who captured her. Her gaze burned into him with hellfire.

The elf rolled over to face her when he broke the silence. “So you’re finally awake. I hope you are feeling well. Tried my best to tend your wounds. How did I do?”

Nova looked at him with more shock than that from a lightning bolt. She shrugged her shoulders in response and surprisingly, did not feel any pain. She looked down and saw the hole in her leather garment but the wound that was there was healed perfectly. Not even a scar to remind her.

The dark elf spoke again. “I bet you are wondering quite a few things. Who I am, why did I capture you, how I beat you?”

Nova scoffed, not wishing to give him any satisfaction. All she cared about was getting the hell out of here.Her eyes transfixed instantly though on the crossbow that was beside him and remembered what his purpose was. It was not the first time Nova crossed paths with the Dawnguard. The only difference was this one was of a different caliber. Even being invisible and sneaking behind him had no effect. She regarded her pale icy eyes into his fiery red ones, meeting each other for the first time.

Arturius smiled lightly.“Or not, I guess. Allow me then to introduce myself,” he grunted as he stood up, his heavy armor groaning along with him. He bowed as if to greet royalty, giving a mocking presence. “My name is Arturius Ras’zagal,” he said simply. “Harbinger of the Companions and Warrior of the Dawnguard.”

Still, Nova kept her silence, not even blinking at him as she sat like a statue. Again, the elf tried to bring out conversation.

“It's nothing against you personally, m'lady.” A slight twinge of anger broke her emotionless mold. Blind to a normal person but Arturius took notice. “Something wrong with what I said?” he pried, trying to dig into her mind.

“I am not your lady...” The sharp words would have pierced his armor and stabbed his heart if they were physical. Nova alienated herself, looking around to figure out the best way out of here.

“So you are someone's lady then?” Arturius continued his interrogation, trying to pry information gently. “That's interesting. Did not figure someone like you would ever settle down.” The giant elf sat down in front of his captive, relaxing at the warmth of the fire behind him.

“That,” Nova locked her frigid gaze into his eyes. “is not your concern. So shut up.” Her anger started to cloud her judgment, focused on his arrogance and sneering instead of formulating an escape plan. His cocky attitude though was hard to look past. Still, she told herself to focus. Find an escape. Find a way out of the cuffs. From how much heavy armor he is donning, running away would be the simple choice. There is no way the likes of him could catch up to her.

Arturius chuckled and sighed mirthfully. “I do not think you are in any position to make demands.” His fingers drummed across his knee with an amused look on his face. Nova rolled her eyes in response, getting more annoyed over his inquires.

Instead of lashing out or being silent, she returned the favor with her own questions. “So how did an oaf like you manage to get the drop on me? It wasn't just luck.”

Arturius smiled and pointed to his nose. “Your scent was easy to follow. Didn't have to see you to know where you were at.”

Nova didn't understand what he meant at first till it hit her. “A lycan...Figures, ” she said with a scoff but still needed to know more. “Besides being a vampire, why even bother with me?”

Tilting his head, Arturius was amazed at the tranquil demeanor she had. “There's been a rumor of a pale haired woman that looks like a ghost and is quiet as one. One that kills anyone who gets in her way. I tracked you down here. Didn't believe it at first till I saw the dead body so I had to take you down.”

“So noble of you,” Nova sneered. Why someone would care about strangers dying made little sense to a cold hearted killer like herself.

“I do find it strange though,” the hunter continued. “Why do you go around butchering people? Do you have a personal vendetta against them? I could somewhat understand the need for blood but none of the victims I have seen had been drained in such a manner.”

He had no idea that she was Dark Brotherhood. That alone was a saving grace in her favor. What would have transpired if he did though? Would she still be alive, in a manner of speaking? Appeared to be that vampire hunting was all the mutt cared about. Instead, Nova just smiled at his ignorance, enjoying the silent treatment she was giving him.

Arturius sat, playing with his goatee between his fingers, twisting it as he studied the vampire. “The only other thing that comes to mind is you don't kill just out of pleasure. With the fine leather and weaponry you hold, I would say you make a good living doing it. Is it safe to say you belong to the Dark Brotherhood?”

Nova kept smiling, trying her best to not break her facade. Although his deduction skills are quite astute, she did not want to give the mutt the satisfaction of what he guessed was true. She tried to play it off instead. “They were all killed, weren't they?”

The memories were still fresh as her mind took her back to that holocaust. How Festus was pinned to a tree for sport, Unborn dying after taking out multiple guards and Astride...Poor, accursed Astrid. Her fate was not as deserving as it should have been. Even with flayed skin and burnt beyond recognition, it was still not enough to forgive the betrayal. It took everything in her power to keep her eyes from leaking pain. Staying stoic, Nova just stared at the hunter, hoping for a fate less excruciating than her former leader’s.

Arturius shook his head, scoffing a smile. “Although some would agree with you, that is not the case. A few assassins have survived considering the Emperor was killed a week afterward with a note pinned to his chest.”

Nova remembered that day well. Under the cloak of a moonless night, she was able to climb aboard the very ship the Emperor was on. She tore her way through the crew, slitting throats and piercing skulls with arrows like a cranial eviscerator. However, when she met the ruler of Tamrial, it was not as she expected to be. Instead of a cowering royal begging for his life to be spared, he was expecting her. The emperor said that the Dark Brotherhood never dies, no matter how many times others have tried and that it was time to accept his fate. So calm he was, so understanding with what needed to be done. Few people have earned Nova's respect. It was over, quick and painlessly as a favor to him. The note that the hunter referred to was pinned on the bloody corpse, stating, _“We live.”_ That was one of her most proud accomplishments to this day.

“So what now? Going to kill me? Turn me into the proper authorities?”

Arturius was taken back slightly by her challenging conduct. He stroked his dark goatee before answering. “The Dawnguard will see to that.”

“The…Dawnguard?” Nova heard of that extremist group hellbent on eradicating vampires. The Dark Brotherhood may be a group of killers but they were careful, methodical. Only killing the target and whoever dares get in their way. The blood spilled wasn't innocent bystanders. It was always simpler to get in and get out without the need for piling up the bodies. But the Dawnguard were something different. They not only kill vampires but anyone who associates with them as well. Their ruthless and brutal ways made them feared by not just vampires but everyone who didn't share their views. And this mutt was one of them. If that was the case, why was she still alive? That question she already knew the answer to. A vampire killed by the Dawnguard is lucky. Being captured was something she would never wish on anyone. Not even Astrid. “Do you have _any_ idea what they are going to do to me?!” The look of fear overwhelmed her as what was left of her composure shattered. “I heard what goes on in there!”

“Unfortunately...” His voice was heavy with regret and remorse, “I know about your involvement with the Dark Brotherhood already. No hold will be able to detain you for long. The Dawnguard is the only place that will hold you for justice.”

“They would not care about what I have done if I was just a normal person. They would rather kill an innocent vampire than punish a non-vampire who is a murderer.”

“How can vampires be innocent when you feed off of people, kill them like cattle and infect those who live?” Arturius shot back.

Nova moved her face inches away from Arturius’. “Do not associate me with what you are fighting against.” She leaned and rested her back against the stone. She hit her head on the wall in frustration and looked up, wishing she was out of this predicament.

“I fight to make sure that scourge like you are not roaming the countryside, slitting the throats of innocent people.”

“Innocent?!” Nova shouted unexpectedly, startling Arturius slightly. “You know nothing of innocence. You have just as much blood on your hands as I do!”

The elf shifted his bottom jaw side to side and smiled, “What you do is kill people for money; for profit. I do not kill unless I have to. If someone begs for mercy or throws down their weapons, I grant them mercy like I did with you.”

Nova scoffed, “Some Dawnguard you are. Mercy is for the weak. I would not have granted you the same if –“

Arturius interrupted. “ _If_ you did, but you didn’t. All I did was giving you a taste of your own medicine. Not so fair when someone attacks from the shadows, is it?”

Nova huffed once and rolled her eyes. “Next time we meet, you will be the one who is hunted.” She spat the words out with venom that would make the fangs of a frostbite spider feel like a mosquito bite.

Unfazed by such a proclamation, Arturius did not even blink. He leaned his head back and chuckled a bit before replying. “I still do not have your name.” He tilted his head in interest, hoping for his curiosity to be sated.

“I threaten to kill you and...and you want to know my name?” Nova's face contorted with perplexed amazement over if Arturius had brain damage or if he is thinking with his other head.

“Is that too much? Surely, it would not cause any harm in doing so?”

“How about I will tell you right before I drag my knife across your throat? That sound good?” Nova actually procured a smile when she responded, her fangs gleaming slightly.

Arturius gave a despondent sigh, his hot breath leaving a wisp of white smoke in the frigid air. “Alright then,” he said with disappointment in her answer.

“So what now?” The vampire asked, with what little hope she had of getting out of the shackles.

”I already told you. We are going back to the Dawnguard where you will face justice.”

“Good luck with that,” Nova smirked, the look of a teasing seductress glowed from her eyes.

“And what makes you say that?” Arturius asked, interested in what his prisoner had to say afterward.

She let out a small giggle that sent chills down Arturius' spine. “Because it's almost daybreak. You would be doing me a favor by letting me die in the sun.”

Puzzled, he inquired on that subject. “I have seen vampires out in the daylight. Well covered but still. So why not you?”

“Because I haven't fed in days, you numbskull.”

Again, confusion clouded his mind. “What does feeding have to do with the sun?”

Nova rolled her eyes. “The Dawnguard knows nothing of vampires except how to kill them.”

“That is all there is to know.”

“Anyway,” she said with a look of disgust on her face. ”As I was saying, the longer a vampire goes without blood, the weaker they become. The sun goes from irritating our skin to boils and blisters to eventually, killing us outright. It all depends on how long we have gone without sustenance.”

“So why did you not drink the blood of that guy you killed outside?” he questioned, flabbergasted.

“Because he is dead. I need fresh blood,” she tittered.

“Oh,” Arturius replied. Although Simply shaking his head, the giant elf walked over to the fire. The mutt added some more wood, doing his best to stave off the bitter cold. Nova smiled at the fact that he needed such comforts. She could be standing out in the cold, wearing lingerie and still outlast an elf dressed in heavy winter gear. When he turned around and faced Nova, he knelt down, putting his hand gently on her chin to raise her eyes up to meet his. She scowled with a cold stare that makes the current weather seem tropical.

“I am sorry it had to come to this. I wish you would have chosen a different path.” His red eyes could have stared into her soul, assuming she still had it. “It troubles me that someone as beautiful as you could do such ugly things with her life.”

Nova ignored whatever he was saying and averted her stare towards the open stone gap behind Arturius that showed off the night sky. The stars were shimmering slightly but dissipating with the approaching dawn as if the holes in the sky were being patched up. She needed an escape and needed it soon. The lock picks Nova had were out of reach, assuming they were still there on her thigh. Still, she was always prepared for occasions such as this. As she twisted her hands around, manipulating her wrist, Nova could feel the lock pick she kept hidden near her wrist. Now all that she needed was to undo the shackles without drawing notice.

As if the divines themselves granted her unspoken wish, Arturius stood up, his armor clanked like pots and pans being dropped. “I need to go outside for a minute to take care of some business.” He gave her a nod before heading out the archway to relieve his bladder.

“Hurry back,” Nova said sarcastically. He turned around and smiled before heading outside. She waited for the heavy footsteps to muffle themselves with every growing distance. “Finally,” Nova muttered under her breath, removing the lock pick from the armlet that covered her wrists and hands. She took the pick and started manipulating it, closing her eyes to focus on the sounds and vibration of the pins. “ _Come on you cursed thing.”_ Finally, with what seemed like an eternity, the lock became undone, releasing the iron grips and granting herself freedom.

Keeping her hands behind her in case he came back, she looked around the stone laid room. Her knife was lying beside the fire, the mirrored metal still as perfect as ever. But the bow, her ebony bow, was nowhere to be found. Quickly scrambling over, she snatched her dagger in a flash and went back to feigning captive. The feel of the hilt against her palm would have caused her blood to rush faster. There was still the matter of her bow and where it was.

Before Nova could ponder the thought further, the vociferous armor, growing louder broke focus. As Arturius walked through the entrance, he was rubbing his hands together, trying to warm them. “Gods, it's cold out there. How do you people handle it?”

“Are you asking me as a vampire or a Nord?”

Arturius, with what seemed like a smile glued to his face, was amused by that question. “Either one, I guess.” He approached the welcoming fire, cracking its orange and yellow whips on the wood. Before he allowed his captive to answer, he asked another question. “So how did you manage to get out of the cuffs?”

Nova was caught off guard more than she was when they fought. A fight that still took most of the energy out of her. There was not enough in reserve to finish another one, much less, even start one. “Guess there isn't any point in pretending.” Standing up, her slender body was poised and ready, holding the dagger's edge along her forearm. “Where is my bow by the way? I hope you did not leave it out in the cold.” He did not even turn around to face her. Provoking her, taunting her. It was the same way with the Emperor except this elf was not giving up. No. He teased her to see if she would strike instead.

“Your bow?” His ignorance instigating her further.

“My ebony bow...Where the fuck is it?” This time her voice was burning when she spoke through clenched teeth and fangs.

“Oh, that,” he said with ever calmness in his voice, not even stirred up by the fact that his back was turned towards the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. “When you flew back into the tree, it broke in several pieces. Normally, that is not possible but the cold managed to make it brittle enough to do such a thing.” Arturius' hands were folded behind him in proper fashion. Fear was not something he deals with in a pusillanimous way. It was either bravery or stupidity to mock an assassin in such a manner.

Nova was furious, both over his cocky attitude and her favorite bow was broken. It was a piece of art. A masterpiece. A part of her. Taking a deep breath, she realized that getting worked up is the way towards certain death. Anger clouds judgment and she needed every bit of focus if she were to get out here in one piece.

“What's the matter? I thought you were accustomed to attacking people from behind.” His eyes were closed and his ears were tuned in on the killer. Waiting for any movement, waiting to draw his sword. The only response was the wind whispering throughout the tower and the dying fire that needed to be fed soon. It was as if she was...

Turning around abruptly, all that he was met with was a stone wall. Howling with anger over letting his arrogance get the better of him, Arturius punched the wall, leaving a heavy crack in it. He charged out the entrance and shouted with raging fury. “Do not think you can escape me!” After he fetched his shield which stung his callused palms from the icy weather, he charged out into the twilight. It was bright enough to see the footprints in the snow but the smell was what he was tracking.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how big each chapter should be. Too long and I feel like people lose interest. ~shrugs~ Oh well. I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it adds some suspense.


	3. Behind the Veil

“ _She could not have gotten far.”_ At least, he hoped that. Trudging through the deluge of white crystal laden ground, Arturius struggled slightly. The tundra was not easy to go through with a massive body. The ice tends to mock those who are heavy and even more so to those who are not graceful. Keeping his senses in tune and locked in on the scent, he felt like he was walking in circles. The path he was tracking did not seem to get any stronger with the scent. Even the footprints disappeared from sight. The smell of something putrid overwhelmed his delicate senses. Rotten meat or perhaps a fungus was growing nearby. Either way, he turned from the odoriferous offense and tried to clear his nostrils.

As his watchful nose lurked for her aroma, he realized she was gone. Frustrated, Arturius kicked a rock and launched it across the barren and lightly tread path. It came to a halt when it smacked the body of the corpse that laid forgotten and frozen. Giving a signal to the Divines as to not mean disrespect of the dead, Arturius gave a silent prayer. He knelt down to get a close whiff of the blood and body odor. There was a new trail to track, the origins of this man and where he came from, that could give some answers as to how he got involved with the night stalker. Although this was not as well received as to catching the vampire, this will at least provide some solace and hopefully, information.

Perking his ears and twitching his nose, the Dunmer kept a steady pace. Being careful not to slip on the unforgiving ice, he waddled with extra caution. Despite that, his feet gave way from under him as he crashed hard on the ground. He swore words that would make make a sailor rush to a temple. Arturius dusted the debris off his armor after standing up. He sauntered off onto road in the hopes of not repeating that performance and felt grateful enough to not have a soul to witness what happened.

Nova let out a sigh of relief as the hunter started to take his leave. She almost gave herself away by laughing when the oaf fell flat on his back. Had he have fallen in a closer proximity to her, it would have been over quite quickly. The dagger plunged deep in his throat would have sufficed. Instead, she was hiding up in a tree. Nova tossed the Namira's rot fungus she was using to mask herself from the hound on her trail. Crude but effective, it was a simple trick that she learned from Babette to not only cover up scents but to drive away unwanted predators. She kept her ice blue eyes fixated on the warrior brandishing the heavy and clunky armor. Feeling stupid over getting caught off guard by the likes of him, she was insulting her status as the Listener. The attack on her pride hurt more than the injuries she suffered at his hands. A debt that Nova intended to pay in full.

After the reluctant vampire made sure the coast was clear, she cracked her stiff knuckles and then hopped out of the tree. Even with the lack of sustenance and the transference of twilight into dawn, not a whisper of noise was made when her feet met the ground. Still, Nova felt her skin tightening the more exposed she was towards the day star's rays. Making sure her silver white hair was tied back, she covered her head with the coal dark cowl to protect her delicate features. Her wife would have a fit otherwise.

Walking past the contract killing she was hired to do, a sigh escaped her lips. “I still need to inform the contract.” Not only for the sake of letting the employer know but for the matter of payment for the task. Although normal business would be to get paid up front, there was a nice balance in the half now, half later aspect. People are pretty uneasy to give up an abundant amount of gold in the hopes of someone taking care of a problem. There was only one instance where someone did not pay the rest afterward. Precious man hours were wasted tracking the delinquent down, which proved to be even more costly than the debt itself. However, a message was to be made and one that was received well about trying to escape payment that was due. Nova remembered the trembling man, cowering in fear, snot and tears running down his face. She almost felt sorry for him...Almost.

The snow was crisp, betraying her silence with each step. Gliding across the frozen ground, the vampire squinted her eyes down to see the fresh footprints of the giant elf. They dotted the same road that led to the woman who hired her. Nova took more extra caution as she traveled the road. The footprints were sunk so deep, even a child could follow the tracks. Each vestige that stalked the path caused worry to stir within Nova. It was not a common path to take for traveling as it diverged off the main road to Riften. The assassin decided to take a short cut straight through the frozen forest instead of following the man made route. As she drew ever closer to her destination, she took pause when she came to the realization of what the elf had planned. The mutt was following the scent back to the source. Either an ambush again or to get information about who the woman hired. Nova was unsure on how to proceed. Go back home or finish the business transaction? To try and meet the contract right now would be suicide. Feeling a sense of uneasiness like before, she decided to go about resolving the business at a different time.

She palmed the Razor's hilt and unsheathed it, staring at the lustrous shine and exuberance. Nova was not interested in a fight. No, she wanted to take him down with ease. From the shadows, she could slit his throat and watch the life drain from his eyes along with the blood from his neck. She pondered that thought and remembered how even when invisible, she could not get the advantage. His nose was too good for such parlor tricks. “Damn werewolves,” Nova muttered, cursing the species as a whole.

Putting the precious dagger back into the scabbard, the discomfited assassin decided it was best to approach this another day. There was no sense in risking unlife and limb for some septims. Besides, there was need for rest. Nova was pushing herself too hard and was at an extreme disadvantage. The healing only mended her wounds but did little to revitalize and nourish her. It was most unwise in being reckless at this time. Turning around and retracing her steps, she headed back home to her dearly beloved. At least she could have some positive vibes within this setback.

The smell of manure overwhelmed Arturius' delicate nose. Although he grew up on a farm, it was different with the new beast blood that flowed through his veins. Still, he tried to focus on the task at hand when he approached the door of the house where the scent was most strong.

Raising a heavy fist, he knocked on the door, the hollow thuds startling some of the livestock. Arturius stood uneasy, not knowing what to expect. A teary eyed child? A widow? No one? The seconds seemed like minutes until the door finally creaked open.

“W-w-what is it?” a female voice trembled with fright.

“My name is Arturius and there was an incident concerning a man who lives here.” He scratched the back of his neck with uneasiness, wondering how the news was going to affect this woman.

The door opened up all the way. Arturius was not expecting a fellow Dunmer.

“Are...are y-y-you the messenger they sent?” Her voice was shaking with uncertainty. Her face was bruised and her eyes spoke of pain and worry. The same eyes he saw within victims that hired the Companions to stop the circle of violence or needed protection.

“This man...He was a Dunmer who was killed recently. I think it had to do with the Dark Brotherhood. Is it okay if I come in?”

Panic stirred within the woman and quickly slammed the door hard in Arturius' face. An odd response that did not sit well with him. Again, he knocked on the door, trying to converse with the woman. “Ma'am, if your husband was killed by such a group, your life might be in danger too!”

“Go away! Leave me alone!” she shouted through the door, her voice finding strength not seen before.

“If it was your husband, then you should care! He was killed senselessly and left on the side of the road!” he shouted, trying to get her to understand the dire situation that came to be but only silence met him. He knocked harder this time, causing the rusty hinges to rattle.

“I don't want your help!” The woman was now sobbing, her words wet with tears and hot with anger. Arturius was stunned at such a proclamation. Why would an innocent woman be this way?

Then it hit him. The words from the assassin that she shouted. “ _Innocence?! You know nothing of innocence!”_ Would she do something as ghastly as hire the snow haired woman to kill her husband? The bruises on her face and how scared the dark elf woman was probably reason enough to warrant such an act of contrition. However, nothing justified cold blooded murder.

With anger burning through his body that started as a cindering spark now raged into an inferno. He brought his mighty boot to the door and knocked it down with a harrowing thud. The elf lady cowered in fear, unable to move from the sheer shock of the behemoth man that forced himself in. Arturius towered above her, his face grim.

“Did you hire that woman to kill your husband?” his voice deep and low, the inner wolf growled slightly. “Be honest.”

Shaking from fear, she could not bring herself to answer such a direct question. Her voice lost and any courage has waned. As he took a step closer, the woman tried to scramble away like a wounded rabbit after the snake injected its venom. His feet stomped towards her while she sought a corner, holding a frying pan in her hands.

Her voice trembled. “I had to do it!” Her cheeks were hot with tears. “I didn't have a-a-a choice!”

“There is always a choice,” Arturius' said with fire in his eyes.

She was now hysterical. “I just wanted it to stop!”

Arturius was looking at her carefully, knowing what she meant. Seeing the bruised and swollen side of her face, everything make sense in the hunter's mind. She needed an escape to stop the abuse. She turned to the only people who were willing to put an end to it for good, not just for a while. She did not want to live in fear afterward but to live in peace. He took a few steps closer, his heavy feet making the floorboards creak under his weight. The frying pan she held was shaking more than a dark elf stuck in a Skyrim blizzard.

Taking her by surprise, Arturius snatched the frying pan from her hand. However, his words were calm and soothing, contrasting his appearance as he tossed the cookware aside. “It’s going to be okay now. You need not to worry anymore about your husband anymore.”

“W-w-who are you?” She asked with tears down her bruised face, looking confused as to what the giant elf wanted.

“Someone you do not need to fear.” He let out a sullen smile as he created some distance between him and the woman. “I just wish you would have found a better solution than this.”

Standing silent but still shaking, she could not find the voice to answer back. Just her eyes filled with both regret and relief. The regret not from hiring the Dark Brotherhood but from marrying someone who drove her to such extreme actions. Arturius wondered how many other people could be driven to such measures. Obviously she was too powerless on her own. With Whiterun being so far out from here, it would be hard to get away to have the Companions help without drawing notice to herself. He was always taught to never hit a woman or there would be worse things to happen to him in return. Even though murder conflicted with Arturius' ideologies, he felt almost disgusted with himself over agreeing with the solution she sought out.

She finally spoke up after moments of silence. “I wish there...was something else I could have done.” Her jaw locked tight, hoping the death he had was as miserable as he made her life. “Are you going to...arrest me now?” Not looking up from the floor, her shoulders sunk.

“No...” Arturius answered. “What's done is done. Besides, if I would have saw what he did in front of me, I would have probably killed him myself.”

Hope returned in her eyes as she looked up at the fellow Dunmer. Her bottom lip quivered with both elation and relief. As Arturius turned to head out the door, he glanced over his shoulder. “Next time, try the Companions. They tend to solve problems better and probably for cheaper too.” He gave a half-hearted smile in the hopes that what he said will bear some guidance. She mirrored the expression back at him and gave thanks for understanding her predicament.

When he turned around to face the door, Arturius swallowed the guilt down into the pit of his stomach. He gave pardon for her because she has been through enough already and there was no point in arresting her. Seems the justice was already done. Opening the door, he stepped outside into the slightly bitter wind with the comfort of the sun giving some warmth to balance it out. It was time to move on and hopefully find the vampire again. This time, not get so cocky and to let her escape again.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't sure if I combined this chapter with the last one would be too long. After giving it some thought, I can safely say the chapters from here on out will be a little bit longer. 
> 
> Hope you are enjoying the read. Appreciate those who take the time to do so. If there are any errors, be sure to drop me a line and let me know. Much appreciated.


	4. The Town of Thieves

Nova was dead tired (rather, undead) from the day's experience. From being hit with an arrow, to knocked unconscious and finally, spending too much time in the sun. Her lover Ysolda was already up, getting ready for her daily outing of trading. She came into the bed and kissed Nova’s neck. The sleeping beauty crooned softly, playfully shoving the fellow Nord away. “Give me a few more minutes, my love.”

“Oh shush, I have a schedule to keep with the Khajiit. You know this.” Ysolda stroked her hand across Nova’s ivory hair. “But I still have some free time in case you change your mind. Are you thirsty?” she offered in a teasing manner.

Nova rolled over, licking her lips at the thought of biting her wife’s neck. “Mmm…I don’t want to weaken you. But I don’t want you to go about your day without feeling affection.”

She pulled Ysolda on top of her, straddling her. They kissed each other passionately, sealing their lips together as if the other was the only source of air. Ysolda’s reddish hair kissed her wife’s cheeks while Nova reached around her spouse’s back with one hand, undoing the straps that held her dress on her. Ysolda bit her lip and moaned gently. “Gods, you are such a tease.” She reached her arms up towards the ceiling, letting Nova slip the dress over her head, tossing it to the floor. The vampire’s hands made her shiver, sending chills up her spine. Nova leaned her body up, kissing the exposed breasts, feeling her hair being embraced. Ysolda pulled her wife into her chest, lowering her hands down to scratch her back.

Nova threw her lover on her back, holding her wrists down, feeling the single heart pounding faster. She felt Ysolda’s hands caressing her shoulders, tilting her head towards her arms like a cat being petted.

“Why is there a hole in your armor?” Ysolda asked, jolting upright.

“Where?” feigning ignorance as to not ruin the mood if she knew the truth.

Ysolda put her finger in the hole, showing her spouse. Nova took her hand and interlaced their digits together and whispered in her ear, “Probably caught it on a branch or something. Besides, I know another hole you can find with that.” slithering her tongue along the earlobe.

Ysolda started to giggle slightly. “Did you really just say that?” She brought their entangled hands to her mouth and licked each of Nova’s fingers, starting with the index. She twirled her tongue around the nail and then sucked on it seductively.

“How much time do we have?” Nova purred, closing her eyes, adoring Ysolda’s attentive manner.

“Shhh,” she whispered, putting a finger across her lover’s lips. She then reached down and tugged on the straps of the dark red and black armor that showed off every curve. Nova felt the buckles loosen, one by one till the last one made her pale flesh exposed. Nova leaned forward, leveling her body with Ysolda’s, leaving a trail of kisses down from her stomach to between her legs. “Mmm...That feels good, darling. Don’t stop.”

Nova’s tongue slowly crept its way to the folds of her sweet smelling labia, exploring each part slowly as if it was her first time. Nova felt a hand against the back of her head, pushing her face deeper. She looked up at her lover, watching her bite her lip. Nova kept twirling her tongue around each sensitive area, tasting the essence being secreted. She reached her hand up and fondled her warm breasts.

Ysolda moved her hands down to the sheets, gripping them tighter with each motion of Nova’s tongue. She tossed her head back while moving her legs around Nova’s head to embrace the building climax. Trapping her wife’s head between her legs, moaning louder as she moved her hips from small twitches to full on spasms.

Nova licked one of own fingers and slid inside with ease, feeling the vaginal walls tighten. She licked her clitoris, moaning to send vibrations through all her sensitive areas. The moaning intensifying from Ysolda was music to her ears, moving her tongue and fingers at the same pace.

“Oh Nova, I am almost there!” Reaching one hand to tug on her silver hair, the other digging her nails into her own palms, causing them to bleed.

Nova removed her finger and replaced it with her tongue, circling around the entrance, going deeper with each rotation. Her tongue exploring the depths as much as possible while her free hand stimulated her clitoris.

Suddenly, Ysolda screamed in ecstasy, pulling Nova’s face hard into her vagina. She breathed heavily, grabbing Nova’s hand and putting it on her chest, above her pounding heart. Nova relished each thump, imaging swimming in the blood pumping through every vein in her body.

Nova lifted her head up and rested it on Ysolda’s flat, smooth stomach. “Mmm…That is the one thing that tastes better than blood.” She said licking her pale lips and fingers clean.

Ysolda leaned up and grabbed Nova’s face, kissing her and tasting her own sweet nectar. “Are you sure?” she asked with a mischievous grin, holding up a slightly bloody hand.

Nova’s eyes lit up with lust, grabbing her hemorrhaging hand and without a word, started licking the crimson syrup. Ysolda gasped slightly, her hand shaking as more and more blood came out. She let sweet murmurs escape her mouth, telling Nova to savor the moment. She stroked her pale hair, tucking it behind her ear. Ysolda kept nursing her, feeding her beautiful wife with their macabre bond. The vampire released her hold, shuddering slightly, feeling revitalized.

“I love you, my creature of the night. With each beat of my heart, it’s for you and you alone.” Ysolda squeezed Nova’s hand then kissed her passionately, their tongues dancing in a waltz of lust and affection.

Nova broke their kiss, “And I love you, my Daystar, with each breath I take. I would say ‘with each beat of my heart’ but-“

“Oh shush and kiss me before I head out for the day.” Their lips once again sealed, holding each other close, not wanting to let go. Ysolda pulled away and bit Nova’s bottom lip, tugging on it in a playful manner. She got off the bed and grabbed her dress. “I am going to be in the kitchen to bandage up and then be on my way.” She blew Nova a kiss and then started to exit the bedroom.

Nova reached over to the nightstand and opened a drawer, searching through the mixture of colored bottles and vials. “ _Come on, where are you?”_ she thought, shifting the glass containers around carefully. “There we go.” She picked up a tube of blue liquid and rolled off the bed. She reached up and stretched, noticing some extra blood she missed on her hand. As she wiped off all the excess with her tongue, savoring the sweet taste, Nova walked out of the bedroom. She turned the corner and snuck up behind her lover, wrapping her arms around her.

Ysolda gasped and lightheartedly slapped Nova’s arm. “You know how much I dislike that, sweetie.”

“I will make it up to you now, my Daystar.” She held the azure filled vial and moved it like a pendulum in front of Ysolda’s face. “This will heal the wound and leave your hands smelling like a blue mountain flower.”

Ysolda grabbed the vial and turned around. “That’s because it is made from the blue mountain flower,” she said, putting her arms around Nova’s neck and smiling. “Thank you. I love the scent.”

“Tis why I picked it out. That’s the last one so later today, I am going to gather some more.” Nova leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Now, you better get going. The khajiit are pretty punctual.”

“Don’t worry. I know how hard you worked to help me out.” she said as she put her dress back on. “Can you help me out some more with this dress?”

Nova helped tie up the red and grey corset styled dress, lacing from the bottom up. “How tight do you want it?”

“Not too much. I want to be able to breathe.”

Nova tugged lightly and started to tie it off, leaving the ends in a bow. “How does that feel?”

“Comfortable. Just the way I like it.” Nova kissed her neck gently, being careful not to give into the primal urge. Ysolda tittered, “That tickles. Now, I have to get going, Nova.”

“I know,” she said with an exaggerated sullen look on her face. “I just hate missing you.”

“Which makes seeing me all the more exciting.” Ysolda rested one hand on Nova’s bare hips and the other between her legs, feeling the moisture build up as she teased her. “Tonight, you are going to be ALL mine for the taking.” Nova breathed heavily, clenching her jaw tightly, wishing for more time with her soul mate.

“Go before I tie you up and not let you leave.”

Ysolda winked. “Kind of like our honeymoon,” she said, licking the fingers that were just inside Nova.

She opened the door and blew a kiss at Nova who was covering her eyes from the sunlight. She then shut the door behind her and went on her way to Riften. Nova sauntered back into the bedroom and collapsed on the empty bed, sighing heavily at the absent space that was still warm. She rolled over on her wife’s side of the bed, falling asleep to her smell.

* * *

“You _what_?!” Isran yelled, having the question echo throughout the Dawnguard fort.

“I wasn’t able to get the target…Sir.” Arturius was standing up straight without flinching, trying his best to cover up the fact that he let it happen.

The Dawnguard leader, with a vein pulsating on his forehead, snarled out with strained anger, “How could you let it _get away_!?” having some spittle land on the dark elf.

Arturius wasn’t sure what upset him more: The yelling or the rain from Isran’s mouth hitting him. He raised his hand to wipe away the unwanted moisture off his face and then back into standing formation, still standing strong. “She was too fast and knew I was on her trail, Sir. My armor weighed me down too much to be effective in chasing her.”

“I am sure a crossbow can move faster than it does, Lieutenant.” Isran said with his back turned towards him, calming down slightly but still upset over the whole ordeal

“I was able to get a shot off but she was able to move before-“

“No! What you did was completely miss the shot!” The leader said, turning around, putting his finger in Arturius’ face. “You go out and bring it back. I want that thing alive! Do you understand, Lieutenant?”

The paladin sighed and then nodded. Isran got furious and drew his fist back unexpectedly and threw it hard towards Arturius’ face. The Dunmer quickly ducked the blow and grabbed Isran, slamming him hard on his side. The giant elf stood back into position without missing a breath, gazing straight ahead as if nothing happened.

“Least you are not weak…Stupid, but not weak,” Isran said in reply, trying to cover up the embarrassment in front of the rest of the group that watched in silence.

With a hand outstretched, the Dark Elf offered assistance to the commander. Isran dismissed it without acknowledgment and got back up, dusting himself off.

“Now that we got that out of the way Elf, we still need to get that menace under control. Do you have any idea how to find that creature?”

“No, sir. I used up all my resources the first time. Even if I were to capture her, the reward for her would barely cover the cost spent finding her.”

“The reward, good Lieutenant.” Isran started to circle around him, “Is getting rid of the vampire threat. Not gold. I would rather be a beggar in a world free of those blood suckers than where I am now.”

“Understood sir. I will do my best to-“ Was all that Arturius managed to get out.

“I do not want your best…I want it _done_!”

“Yes sir, as you command.” Arturius gave a half assed salute which made his commander’s face twitch slightly. He turned on his heels and started towards the massive door. “ _That was close.”_ Arturius thought to himself.

* * *

The hunter rested and sat down next to a small creek, using the cold water to wash the dirt off his face. “ _Damn Isran.”_ He thought to himself. “ _He needs to control his damn temper._ _Talking to me like I am some whelp.”_ He splashed more water on his face and neck trying to cool his temper and clear his mind. He got exasperated the more he thought about what he should have done. Better cuffs? Not taking his eyes off her for even a second? He rotated the shoulder that was bothering him earlier and was despondent to feel the pins and needles.

 

“Dammit, I still need to get find her,” Arturius thought to himself. He stood up on his feet and started walking towards Riften. The mountains stood majestically, glowing from the sunlight and shimmering from the frost. Arturius kept walking when he smelled something that made his mouth salivate with delight. Elk. He closed his eyes and tensed his body up, focusing on the sounds and scents that surrounded him. The hunter filtered out the leaves, streams, winds and anything else that distracted him from his prey.

He locked in on what he was looking for. Arturius rushed towards the thin forest that followed the path towards Riften, darting between the trees and leaping over the moss covered rocks. He dropped down to a crouch and waited intently for his quarry. His blood started to rush as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He pulled out his crossbow as quietly as possible when he heard the distinct sound of hoof beats on the cold ground.

Arturius spotted the game and instantly aimed his crossbow at the elk. His antlers big enough to cradle a mammoth, hooves that sound like boulders falling off mountains with each step and golden fur that glowed more than the noon sun. (At least, that is what he will tell Vilkas whenever he gets back to Whiterun.)

He kept his aim steady, holding his breath and finally pulling the trigger. The crossbow clicked and nothing happened. The elk quickly looked up from the grass he was eating and sprinted off to safety. Arturius sighed and laughed at himself for not loading the crossbow _before_ going on a hunt. “ _Better than keeping it loaded and ending up with a bolt in your leg,”_ he thought.

He clutched his growling stomach, wondering how hungry he really was. The elf started to unbuckle his armor, beginning with his chest plate. He tugged on the two straps under his arms and then the last set on his shoulders. The heavy Nordic armor landed with a heavy thud, raising dust. He twisted his hands and wrists to get the gauntlets off and finally, shook off his boots.

The sun’s rays helped balance the bitter cold on his scarred and naked body. From the slash mark across his chest from a training session gone bad to the one across his cheek from an arrow that grazed him. He knelt down and took a net to gather all his armor in it. He safely secured it and tested the knots to make sure they would not break. “Time to go hunting.”

Arturius grabbed the net and tied it around his back like a pack. He gritted his teeth hard and let out a fearsome bellow, hearing bones crack loudly, his body contorted viciously. He dropped to his hands and knees, fur sprouting everywhere. His face tried to scream in agony but instead came out as a howl. The mouth turned into a snout and teeth sharpened into fangs. The bushy tail finally shot out. The werewolf came out in a terrifying and deafening manner.

_**Hunt…Kill. Prey over there.** _

The creature coiled up and crouched down, shooting off the ground faster than he could ever pull out Dawnbreaker. He took giant bounds and leaps, not slowing down for anything. The sound of air whistling by along with the clatter of his armor tied to his back

_**Scent. Must follow. Hunt and kill. Feast on heart. Consume.** _

Arturius’ primal nature took over, sniffing the ground, His ears perked to the sound, zeroing in on the elk that got away from him as an elf. His claws dragged the ground, able to leave marks in stone and steel alike.

_**THERE! NOW! MUST KIIIIILL! TASTE THE HUNT!** _

Arturius lunged before the elk could do anything. It was frozen, petrified of moving. The werewolf tackled the elk and without effort, tearing into the ribcage of the prey. He ended up completely eviscerating the poor creature. As the ground soaked up the bloody refuse, he pulled out his prized possession from the tangled mess. The heart dripped with blood and let out one last beat before being engulfed in one bite.

The primal nature was soothed and Arturius was able to think more clearly without the constant thought of the hunt on his mind. He stood on his hind legs and let out a malicious howl that would scare dwarven automatons. Focused and clear headed, he made his way towards Riften in the hopes to find some information on the woman who got away.

As he ran, he picked up a scent which stopped him in his tracks: The silver haired vampire! His ears started to curl back out of instinct and quickly put his nose to the ground, going in circles. Arturius stood back up and realized it wasn’t just her but someone else too. A mixture of the two. Confused, he crept to stay out of sight, staying near the forest’s edge. Then the aroma got stronger and was able to spot what he smelled. What would have been a red haired woman in a red and yellow dress but was grey…Along with everything else he saw.

“ _Smells like her but isn’t her. Who is she?”_ He wanted to get closer out of curiosity, to talk to her but took pause because of his current form. The step he took back landed on a branch and snapped, alerting the woman that smelled like the assassin. She turned her head sharply and saw the malformed creature that was between a wolf and man. She shrieked like a banshee, giving Arturius a headache due to his over sensitive ears. He quickly shrunk back, turning around and bolting away from the screeching. The woman quickly fled down the path in terror, sprinting as fast as possible towards Riften.

After dashing through the landscape near Riften as to not be found out by other locals, he finally burned through all the excess energy. He shrugged the pack of armor off his back and dropped it. Sniffing a nearby tree, he made sure no other wolves have been in his territory. He lifted a leg up and started to relieve himself, covering the trunk with his musk.

Arturius suddenly collapsed on his side, shivering from the surge of adrenaline. His skeletal structure was reverting back to what it was half an hour prior. His claws regressed into his fingers, bones snapping hard as the joints separated and joined; his snout changing into a normal mouth. He became elf again after a few minutes of extreme anguish. Curled in the fetal position, the pain finally stopped. He stood up off the cold earth and shook his head. He scratched his body all over to get rid of the itching sensation he gets from the fur that recedes.

“ _Damn, it’s been a while since I went through that,”_ he thought to himself. He ambled over to the net with his gear and picked it up effortlessly. Although dirty, it was still better than how most people kept their armor and weapons. Buckling it on and snapping the straps together to once again become the heavy metal clad giant, Arturius went towards the road back to Riften. No longer hungry after sating his appetite, he was able to remain focused on the task at hand. Hopefully he could find some answers in Riften. After all, what better place to look for an underground organization of assassins than a town of thieves and underhanded dealings? Although Arturius knew the reputation, it was not a hold he visited before since his time in the orphanage, despite being in close proximity of Fort Dawnguard. Between the Thieves' Guild, the corrupt leadership, bribes, and even skooma dealings, it was a place where he would stand out. Getting noticed there was either dangerous or profitable, the latter being out of reach for him.

As he approached the gates, he felt uneasy just from the looks the guards were giving him. Probably more from his size than of his race, he hoped. “Halt!” One of the guards standing near the entrance demanded with an authoritarian voice. “You need to pay a visitor’s tax before you enter the city.”

Arturius stood there, dumbfounded. “Visitor's tax?”

“For the privilege of entering the city, of course. Hundred septims.” Holding out his hand in expected fashion of receiving coin. Reluctant, the Dunmer took pause. He knew it was a shakedown but would calling them out on it be more costly than the so called tax? Shifting his weight on one leg, he stood with defiance.

“I highly doubt there are taxes just for entering this city or else you would not get any visitors. Nice try though.” He flashed a smile and broadened his shoulders in response, hoping to throw back the intimidation their way. It was a gamble that worked.

“Shush...Keep your voice down.” He said in a harsh whisper, even though he was almost as loud. “Hurry up and go inside.” The man rested his back against the looming stone archway, relaxing a bit too much for someone who protects the gates. Still, Arturius had no qualms over such business and proceeded to open the heavy gate. Usually it requires two men but with his size, assistance was not needed.

As he walked past the doors which slammed hard behind him, Arturius was taken back by a smell most foul. His delicate senses were overwhelmed by the canal swimming with sewage. Although he was used to such an affronting stench when he was younger, his lycanthropy made it difficult for his nose. When he walked down the stone laden path, Arturius felt tense as his eyes met with a gloomy character of sorts. Although his hair was as dark as Arturius', it was shorter and more maintained.

“You new to Riften? You better not be looking for trouble,” he voiced with a gruff and serious tone. Arturius was ready to draw his sword but resisted the temptation. He didn't want to take a chance in case he could call a few guards over...or some people of a more dark nature. Instead, the elf took a few steps forward to measure up to the man. Although he was a good head shorter, he was by no means small. Probably an enforcer of sorts. Someone who can collect money owed and break a few skulls in the process.

“What does it matter to you?” The Dunmer scowled at the stranger before him.

“Don't say something you'll regret. The last thing the Black-Brairs need is some fool meddling in their business.” The man remained stoic as he returned his glare back at Arturius.

“I assume the Black-Briars run this town then?” stating the obvious.

“No shit. They have Riften in their pocket.” He knew now this is the elf's first time in the town of debauchery and sneaky dealings. “I'm Maul and I watch the streets for them. The Thieves Guild have their back. If you need any dirt on someone, I am the man to ask but it'll cost ya.”

“Thanks but you told me enough already. You should ask for coin before giving out information like that, _Maul,_ ” leaving a smirk on his face that irritated the man. Or maybe it was the fact he made Maul look like a fool after that statement. Either way, his expression was priceless.

“You just watch your ass before you end up like the last person who tried to fuck with me. Got it?” His knuckles cracked to make sure his point was clear.

Arturius just sighed and started to walk away, wishing he could have avoided the confrontation in the first place. Maul muttered something under this breath. Something about his grey skin which has been heard all before. Dismissing it with ease, Arturius walked the wooden planks that were supported above the canal. With the creaking of the boards, he was amazed that he did not break through due to his weight. He approached the circular formation of kiosks that were selling merchandise. Everything on display seemed pitiful but with an outlandish price. A gold trinket that had scuff marks on it being priced at more than one in mint condition in one booth, a sword that could be used for a child's play thing in another. It's not that he needed anything but it was still sad to see markets go to ruin with such refuse.

“Are you gonna stand there and look or you going to buy something?” a sharp voice from one of the sales women demanded. Arturius looked up from the leather boots that he was staring at that had a hole in the side.

“If there was something worth buying on your display, I would consider it,” trying his best not to insult but could not avoid the obvious truth.

“I'm going to let that slide since you are new here. No one puts out their best gear for display. That is how you get stolen from.” She reached down behind her booth and unlocked the small hatch. She stood back up and procured a pair of beautiful crafted leather boots that would have been mistaken for royalty.

“Best quality indeed. Apologies for my previous comment.” He inspected the dark red straps that wove with the black leather. Although it was intricate and well designed, the size would cause his feet to tear it apart. Still, he doubt he would be able to afford such a grand pair of boots. Arturius could forge and craft his own armor with ease but cloth and leather was foreign in his hands. Metal was hard and robust like he was so it was easier to work with. Plus it was simple to fix a mistake with metal forging. Just smelt it back down and start over. Leather and fabric had to be thrown out and replaced if torn or was unevenly stitched.

“So you going to buy anything? If not, find someplace else to gawk over.” Her impatience was shorter than his.

“How about information?” His eyes locked into the woman's with a piercing gaze.

She scoffed and shook her head. “If you want information, go to the Ratway or ask someone else. I am a shield maiden, not a damn tour guide. Now move along,” she sneered, grabbing the pair of boots and stashing them under her booth for safe keeping.

“The Ratway?” Arturius questioned, in hopes of getting that answered for free.

“It's where the guild is under the city. If you don't know what guild then you really don't belong here.” She sighed softly, annoyed with her guest.

Arturius sighed as well and gave an appreciative nod before moving on. He was not expecting people to have such bad manners. He was missing the friendly faces of Whiterun and the cheery atmosphere. This place was so dreary and the expressions on people are not of a happy source. Arturius wondered how people could live in such misery. If the townsfolk weren't happy here, there are plenty of places to go.

He shook his head to get his mind back in focus over what he came here to do. To find the vampire with the white-silver hair. Last time, he got the information from a mage he mistaken as a vampire. A strange one that elf was. She taught him some of the arts of necromancy as well as the very blade he carries with him.

“So lad, I overheard you are looking for some information.” Arturius turned his head to the side to see a man with fiery red hair standing in a booth with potions scattered about the shelf of his kiosk. “Maybe I can be of assistance...for a price of course.” A smug look appeared on the Nord's face with his offer as he rubbed his index and middle finger against his thumb.

Arturius felt his side for the pouch of septims and realize how light he was. Could only afford a potato that was a week old and with worms thrown in for free. “Err...does it have to be coin?” The elf searched the pouch for an item worth of value instead in the hopes he would accept.

“Either that or a favor perhaps?” the stranger suggested.

Arturius looked at the red haired man, sensing a smell as bad as the canal. After studying him for a second, he realized that he was from the Ratway. The Thieves Guild. Another shot of blind luck just thrown his way as if the Divines blessed him. Not because he had someone right there to offer him information but due to the fact that he did not have to travel down into that musky place. The only thing Arturius is worried about is the “favor”. It probably is stealing from someone or breaking into a residence of sorts. Maybe even roughing someone up due to his strength.

“Before I accept, do you have information about a member of the Dark Brotherhood? A woman with snow white hair?” hoping for an answer that would point the way.

Instantly, the color drained from his face and his eyes got wide. “That's something I do not want to get involved with, lad. And neither should you. Even if I did, I would dare not give up such information. No amount of coin is worth my life.” The Nord started to turn his back and walk away from the elf but Arturius insisted he answer.

“It's important. She is wanted for murder and the involvement of the assassination of the emperor. Those are some of the most serious crimes for anyone.” He was hoping to appease some sense of honor within the stranger.

“And?” he stated callously, shrugging his shoulders. “That's not a problem that affects me any.”

“So this is just a waste of time then?” Disappointment took his voice, wishing for another way.

“The only information I will give you is this. She just isn't part of the Brotherhood.” He took a pause before finishing the rest of his sentence. “She leads them. You don't want to cross blades with her.”

Arturius let out a scoff and smiled. “Already did and I am still alive.” Bragging about it although he did have the right to do so. He is probably one of the only ones who have survived an encounter with her. However, it was not a believable story even though it was true.

“Sure you did, lad. And I be the 10th Divine.” Brynjolf laughed at such a proclamation, causing Arturius' face to turn a faint shade of red in anger.

The hunter decided to go along with it. “And what name does the 10th Divine go by these days?”

“Brynjolf,” saying simply, still smiling over what he just heard.

“Arturius.” The elf extended his hand in greeting. “Well met.”

Brynjolf was hesitant for a second before shaking the elf's hand with a firm grip returned back to him. “Sorry I could not be of further help. If it was someone else who wasn't in that line of work, it would be a different story.”

“It's fine,” he said with a sigh. “Guess there is even honor among the Thieves Guild, huh?”

Brynjolf smirked at the compliment even if it wasn't intended to be. “Haven't you heard? There's no guild here.”

“Yes...of course not,” he chuckled and giving a farewell nod to the first acquaintance he now had.

Arturius looked up into the noon sky as he sat down on one of the benches. It was starting to warm up a bit even though it was still a bit nippy in the air. Still, it was not cold enough to draw wisps of smoke from his breath at least. That was something he was thankful for. Leaning forward with his chin resting on his palm, drumming his fingers across his cheeks, the Dunmer was still trying to figure out a way to get any information on his target. Getting frustrated racking his brain over this endeavor, he decided a quick food break was in order.

Doing his best to focus his nose on a scent worth following, he locked onto some fresh meat; horker. His mouth salivated at the thought of his teeth sinking into the blood and tender muscles. Standing back up, his heavy footsteps, the metal of his armor was creaking slightly. Arturius didn't like the sound of that and knew he needed to polish and lube the joints.

Teasing himself with market food without being able to pay, he looked depressingly at it all while his stomach begged for nurturing. Cursing the only part of him he hated about the wolf inside due to its immense appetite, he pull out the last of his septims. The half dozen coins jangled as he set them down on the old wooden counter of a kiosk. Arturius was greeted with a tender smile of a woman with vibrant, red hair who happily collected the coins in exchange for the fruit. Looking at her kindly, he instinctively bit his bottom lip, admiring the beauty that was before him.

She broke the silence that seemed to still the air around them. “You look...familiar.”

Stammering slightly, he tried to form proper words. Instead, he responded with a shrug and an uneasy smile, unsure of how to reply back.

“Khajiit got your tongue?” she asked, trying to invoke more conversation out of him with her flirtatious charm or perhaps more sales.

“Thanks for the apple?” Avoiding the question he was first asked as he took his purchase. “Not sure how I look familiar. I just travel a lot, I guess.”

“Ever been to Whiterun?” She pocketed the gold and grabbed an apple for herself as well.

The question caught him off guard and was surprised how fast she recognized him. “I stay in Jorrvaskr when I am there.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you're a Companion. Such a brute group they are. Now that you mention it, I think I have seen you around there.” She took a bite out of the juicy fruit the same time he did.

“Not to be rude but you seem too cheerful to be in this town,” he said bluntly without trying to be crass. “I have been here for not even an hour and already dealt with too much attitude.” Arturius took another bite out of the apple, trying to savor the taste instead of wolfing it down. He was glad the produce she has available was refreshing. He hadn't had something this good since growing up on the farm when he was a youth.

Giggling slightly, she responded back. “Try not to let it bother you too much. Otherwise, you end up like them.”

“Sound advice. I'll keep that in mind.” He finished the rest of his apple, core and all. It drew a puzzled look from the lady at such a strange eating habit.

“Did you even taste it or you just inhale it?” she laughed in a joking manner.

“It was delicious. Thank you.” The only thing on his mind was taking the edge off his hunger. It didn't matter how barbaric it seemed. However, he needed more to disperse the lingering feeling though.

“You are welcome back anytime.” She gave a subtle wink with an innocent yet alluring smile. “By the way, you never told me your name.”

“How rude of me.” Arturius scratched the back of his neck at the gesture of impoliteness he exhibited. “Arturius Ras’zagal, at your service.”

“Seems that I was the one who provided you a service, Arturius. I am called Ysolda.” She extended her pale and soft hand forward, shaking the darkened and calloused one that completely enveloped hers. “Not to be rude but your name doesn't sound elvish at all.”

Releasing his grasp on her hand, he smiled at the comment. “You are not the first one to say that today.” His remark dragged the memory of the silver haired vampire and his mission to capture her from the back of his mind. “Anyway, I must be off. Maybe I shall see you again?” Arturius raised his eyebrows for a second, flaring his blood red iris eyes, harmlessly flirting with her with obvious intent.

Ysolda giggled and brushed her dark red hair back behind her left ear. “Maybe but I am happily married.” She showed off the golden wedding band that she wore as a necklace instead of on her finger.

“I didn't...Apologies.” He mustered up trying to save face. “I didn't mean in that manner.”

“Tis alright. I hope you have a good day, Arturius.” Her dark green eyes were seductive without effort when she said that.

The Dunmer gave a farewell nod of departure before heading off near the bridge overlooking the canal underneath. He saw the murky water slowly churning, remembering all too well the times the head mistress at the orphanage threw him in there. His fingers dug into the banister, cracking the wood. Although that hag was murdered a while ago, the memories were felt fresh along with the beatings. Still, Arturius turned his thoughts to more important matters at hand such as the lack of information and not one getting any closer to his goal. He rubbed his forehead with tension and asked himself, “ _Now what?”_

 


	5. Patience Undone

Ysolda hummed happily as she polished off the produce with a somewhat clean rag. She added some organic oil she got from the khajiits to make the skin of the apples shine with glimmer and luster from the afternoon sun. As she reached another apple, she was startled by the unexpected hand on her shoulder. Ysolda let out a small gasp in surprise while turning around to slap whoever was behind her.

The hand snatched her wrist before she could make contact. “Easy there, lass,” came the voice of Brynjolf which was filled with a tone of worry and concern. “You need to give your lady a message when you have the time to do so.”

“You know how much I hate it when people sneak up on me!” Ysolda cried in a hushed whisper. She was trying to regain her composure of her thudding heart and shortened breath. “What is it Brynjolf?”

“You know that elf lad you sold an apple to just now?” He darted his eyes over in the direction of Arturius who was still pondering his thoughts on the bridge. “He has been asking question about your fair haired maiden. Questions that a bounty hunter would ask.”

Ysolda's lips quivered uneasily at the words he emphasized. “ _Bounty hunter?”_ she echoed back in a muffled whisper for only him to hear.

Panic stirred like a storm inside the lady Nord but did her best to not show it on her face. Her eyes betrayed her mask however and Brynjolf looked into her gaze with reassuring comfort.

“I don't like the looks of it either but doubtful he is able to do anything to Nova. He said he crossed blades with her but the fact that he is still alive proves his words fall from his mouth like shit from pigs,” he said, hoping the words offered comfort. It had the opposite effect for Ysolda.

“The hole in her armor...” she muttered to herself. Worry was abandoned to give way to anger. Not the fact that her wife was attacked but the fact that she covered it up by lying about it. Ysolda knew the line of work Nova was in and it never fazed her. It was catching her in a lie that makes her blood boil.

“Something the matter, lass?” Brynjolf asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ysolda shook her head but the clenched jaw and eyes that could make a dragon's fire seem like a summer breeze gave the true answer. Brynjolf noticed it but did not want to pry any further in fear of her fury being aimed towards himself.

“Is that all, Brynjolf?” she asked with some urgency in her voice.

His nostrils flared without intention as he nodded. “Aye. Just wanted to let you know. Stay safe and give my regards to your darling.”

“I will,” Ysolda replied, giving a pretend smile. “Before you go, would you like an apple?” She palmed the one that she just finished polishing up and offered it to him.

His mouth curled up slightly and shook his head. “More of a meat guy myself. Let me know when you get some more of that salted horker jerky with those spices them cats use.”

“Will do. Till next time,” she said as she waved goodbye at the charming thief.

As he walked off to conduct “business”, Ysolda glanced over at Arturius who hasn't moved from that spot on the bridge. He was still looking down at the water below. She gritted her teeth slightly at the elf, feeling tense at what he wants with her wife. Ysolda's breathing shuddered at the thought of the elf taking her beloved away from her. She dug her nails into the old wood of her sales stand, leaving small trenches. Ysolda's anxiety was getting the better of her as she kept watch on her wife's possible assailant. Scratching her arm intensely with nervous energy, she could have dug at bone before her shift was over.

“ _What do you want with Nova?!”_ she screamed inside her head. The reverberation echoed back with her insecurities, constantly looping her innermost fears. The fear of losing her love or being taken away to a secret underground dungeon where she will get tortured.

Ysolda took a deep breath to relax herself, trying to sooth her rabid breathing to a more normal pace. She brushed her auburn hair behind her ears and tried to focus on work. With a quivered hand, she grasped a rag to wipe the sweat off her gleaming forehead. Although she kept trying to keep her eyes off Arturius, they were fixated on him.

“Hello?” a customer asked, breaking Ysolda's concentration.

“Huh? W-what?” she stuttered at the old man before her.

“Two apples,” he requested as the man set down the coins on the table.

Ysolda grabbed two of the apples from the pile, causing one to escape and roll off onto the ground. Flustered, she swore under her breath at her clumsiness but still smiled as she gave her customer the fruit. The old man looked over at the elf Ysolda had her eyes on previously.

“You daydreaming about him?” he said in a joking manner as he took a bite into the fresh produce.

“Oh no!” she quickly said in a defensive manner. Although she was thinking of ways to get rid of him, it was not the sort of day dreaming he was suggesting. “Not at all.”

With a smirk on his face, he shook his head. “If you say so. Thank you.” He held the apple like a goblet of wine when giving a toast.

She nodded back in appreciation before kneeling down to pick up the fruit that dropped on the ground. There was already a cut on it with dirt trapped. Ysolda sighed at the ruined food and tossed it below her stand to be forgotten. When she glanced up, she noticed Arturius disappeared from his place on the bridge. A look of worry formed on her face as she wondered where the elf vanished to.

The customer was still standing there, eating his apple when he interjected.“Are you sure you're not love struck? You seem to be awfully focused on that pointy eared fella,” he said in a teasing manner.

Ysolda huffed, wishing for the man to stay quiet. “Will that be all for you today?” she replied with a forced smile.

The elder man nodded without another word before going on his way. Ysolda leaned on her kiosk, resting her chin on her hand. With a heavy sigh, the thoughts about Arturius rushed through her mind. “ _Who are you and where did you go?”_

* * *

Nova rubbed her tired eyes and stretched her sore muscles. She looked over on the empty space where her Ysolda would be if she did not have to leave to continue her work as a tradesman. She thought how foolish for her wife to even go out and work to make pocket change when the Dark Brotherhood pays so much better. Ysolda's happiness is what matters though; not how much money she makes.

As Nova rolled out of the lavished bed encumbered with the finest silk sheets and pillows filled with the down feathers from geese, she felt a tinge of pain in her shoulder. Even though the wound healed from the arrow, the soreness remained as a reminder of what happened. “Damned wolf,” she muttered to herself.

Nova dragged her feet lethargically towards the kitchen. The light was shimmering through the windows all around. The afternoon sun inhibited her movement, turning her from a silent killer to having the grace of a draugr with a broken foot. Cursing at the day star, the vampire yanked the curtains to cover up the foul rays. However, she ended up ripping them down. Nova growled from her throat with frustration as she tried to put the drapes back up. Her skin was starting to itch from the daylight as she fumbled around trying to fix the mess she caused. After her third attempt, Nova finally was able to set the curtains to darken the room in a comfortable setting.

Before she could sit down to relax, there was a loud knock on the door that startled her. Still naked from the morning's endeavors, she rushed back towards the bedroom to fetch a robe to slip on. The knocking got louder as she approached the door, dagger gripped tight in her hand. Nova cracked the door just enough to peek through. “Who are you and what in Oblivion do you want?” she said with a sharp and domineering tone.

“Message...from Brynjolf,” the man responded without any fear in return.

Nova opened the door the rest of the way as she looked at a familiar face. The man stood with sweat drenched hair and almost breathless. “Better be important,” she said with irritation in her voice.

“I am Vipir. Brynjolf told me to give...this to you as soon as...possible.” He passed her the note while trying to not hunch over to catch some air into his lungs.

Nova glanced at the crumpled paper with a puzzled look. “Strange that he needed to talk to me. Hope it's nothing serious.” Grasping the letter and slicing through the seal with the Razor, she quickly read through it.

_Nova_

_I encountered a man who was asking about you in Riften. A big fellow that rivals most kinsmen but is an elf. He knows you are with the Dark Brotherhood as well. He also started talking to Ysolda afterward but he didn't seem to know about her and you. I'll be sure to keep tabs on him but stay away from Riften for now._

_Brynjolf._

_PS- Be sure to burn this letter._

Nova's nostrils flared when she finished the message. As she crumpled the letter in her fist, she glared at Vipir. “What the hell is he doing in Riften and what is he doing talking to Ysolda?!”

Vipir stood there with a dumbfounded look. “I..know not what you mean. I didn't read the letter,” he said with a simple shrug; his breathing no longer faltered.

Nova threw the balled up letter into the empty fireplace to be burned later. “Really? I can tell you're lying.” Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she stared deep into the windows of his soul. “I can hear your heart skip a few beats when you said that. Now, I am going to ask again and you tell me the truth...What is he doing in Riften and why was he talking to my wife?” Her voice could turn fire into icicles.

“I...Umm...Uhh...” Vipir started to stammer profusely, unable to form any coherent words.

“Useless...” Nova said as she shook her head. “Tell Brynjolf I'll be there within the hour to discuss this. Understood?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, the dagger still clutched in her hand.

“But Brynjolf said-”

“I don't care what he said. I am going to Riften and if you try to get in my way...” She took the treasured knife and slide it gently across Vipir's neck, sending goosebumps down his spine. “Well...I leave that to your imagination.”

Nova slammed the door and leaned her back on it. She drummed her fingers against her temple, trying to figure out why the hunter was in Riften of all places. “ _Did he think the Guild would provide him information? What the hell was he doing talking to Ysolda?”_ Rather than contemplate inside her head, Nova decided to get investigate first hand and possibly get her revenge on the mangy mutt. The vampire stormed off into the bedroom to prepare herself for the next encounter. “ _This time, the hunter will become the hunted.”_

She opened up the wardrobe and looked through her options. Everything she owned and wore was work related and done at night. There was little need for casual clothes since it was rare for her to be seen during the day. After scattering all her garments across the room, the vampire realized how out of touch she has become with society. Everything was dark leather that contrasted her pale skin perfectly. Even though it was the best choice in stalking prey at night or to hide in the shadows, the evening sun would not offer such comforts. Nova decided to raid her wife's armoire for clothing that is more fitting in public.

She decided to go with the soft, sky blue dress. It was a more approachable color and easier to blend in than something too dark or too bright. Nova struggled getting inside the cloth contraption. Dresses are not practical for running in nor does it provide adequate protection. Why people wore such garments was beyond her understanding. After picking up her Razor and tying the scabbard to its customary position on her thigh, she again moaned with frustration over how obstructing the garment was. The dress completely covered the dagger and made it impossible to reach.

The only possible place she could hide it was between her breasts. How the hell people managed to wear such restrictive clothing was asinine. As long as she did not have to hunch over or do a sit-up, it would not cut into her stomach. After getting the boots on as a final touch, she stood in front of the full length mirror. The dress looked better on Ysolda but it would have to do for now.

Nova rushed out the door and winced at the sun light. Even with the door facing east to provide shade, her skin was already developing a pink tone. A headache started to follow right afterward. Her dark armor and hood proved useful even in the most sunny of days but being this exposed was excruciating.

Nova squinted over to where Vipir was sitting on the ground under the leafless tree near the house. “What are you still doing here? Doesn't Brynjolf need his boots licked or something?” Nova said with contempt. Not because of him but more due to the daylight affecting her mood.

“You look like death warmed over and shit out,” Vipir pointed out in a crass manner.

The comment was ignored as Nova focused on the matter at hand. “I need to see Ysolda. It's not safe for her there if that damned hunter is near.”

“With the Guild there? You really think he is going to do anything by himself?” Vipir laughed.

“I am not willing to take that risk,” Nova said as she struggled to walk down the road towards the town of Riften. Vipir rushed up from where he was sitting and was standing in front of the vampire to obstruct her.

“Not in the mood...Move.” She looked at Vipir, not with the cold, steely eyes but ones that were bloodshot and hazy.

“You can barely stand from the look of it,” the young thief pointed out. “Do you have the rattles or bone break fever?”

Fed up with the questions, Nova told him the truth. “I am a vampire, numbskull.”

Vipir stepped back as if standing too close would make him one. “I've heard the rumors. So that is why you are always so pale.”

Exasperated, Nova tried to go around him but he stepped in front of her again. Angry, she threw a fist at Vipir's jaw. It barely glanced off his face as he moved with the blow. Nova stumbled forward, falling on her hands and knees. He shook his head before leaning down to pick up the weakened vampire, cradling her in his arms.

“Come on. Let's get you inside,” Vipir said sympathetically as he started back to the house. “You should know your limits and not rush into things.”

“Shut up...I don't need...your lecturing.” Nova was taking deep breaths with each pause. Furious over her weakness but unable to do anything about it, she finally realized what he said was true. Not willing to admit it, she kept silent as Vipir made his way onto the porch. Positioning himself to open the door without dropping Nova, he realized that there wasn't a knob to turn. He tried to push the door open but it was sealed tight.

“Here,” Nova said weakly. She raised her hand and pressed her palm against the ornate wood. After a moment, blue shimmering lines started to flow like veins all across the door. Vipir got spooked for a second and almost dropped the blood starved vampire.

“What in the...?” He watched as the door creaked open as if it was sentient. “What manner of magic is this?”

“Just go inside,” she said curtly.

“Did not figure you for a mage is all,” he stated as he walked through the manor.

Nova scoffed softly. “I had someone...else make it.” Even though she was indoors, it still took some time to catch her breath. “Just lay me down...in the bedroom.” Nova pointed a frail finger at the open door down the hallway.

As he entered the bedroom, Vipir was awestruck by canopy bed frame laced with white silk sheets fit for the High King. “Maybe I should quit the guild and work for you,” he said in a joking manner. Nova could tell there was a hint of desire in wanting to do that though.

“Guild not doing...so well?” she asked as Vipir laid her on the bed to rest. Nova's skin was still sunburned slightly and her eyes screamed of hunger and starvation. Her dry mouth made it hurt to talk as her lips cracked with each movement.

He shrugged but left a look of worry on his face that a blind man could sense. “Things are rough but we are getting by.”

“Hmm...” Nova replied with exhaustion, not wishing to hear anymore details on the dull matter. “You should get going. Tell Brynjolf I will be there come nightfall.”

“I'll make sure to deliver the message. They don't call me Vipir the Fleet for nothing.”

Nova rolled her eyes and covered herself up with the blankets, too tired to even take off the dress. “Just go already.” She curled up in the sheets, hoping to avoid any further conversation. With that command, he left silently without another word said.

The vampire clutched the comforting silk, wishing for Ysolda's return. The sunburn on her skin slowly faded away along with her breathlessness. She knew the limits the sun placed on her but disregarded the risks. Her eyes grew heavy again, replacing the bitterness with fatigue. She fell asleep to the lingering scent of her wife in the hopes she will wake up to her actually being there.

 


	6. Tempting Truths

Arturius approached the decayed door that stood before him on the pier. The Ratway smelled awful, somewhere between a bloated corpse and an infected wound gone untreated for too long. He didn't want to open it in fear of the wafting smell coming at him in full force. With a firm grip on the handle, Arturius' worries became reality. The putrid stench of rats, both living and dead, assaulted his nose. He took a step back and tried not to regurgitate the apple he had earlier. As he ventured into the corridor, he heard some voices talking. The chatter was indistinct at first until he got close enough to smell them over the rest of the odors.

“Why are we still down here? You said we would get rich and live like kings!” a man with a deep voice bellowed.

“If you hadn't of botched that job to get into the Guild, we would have!” His voice sounded like it came from a young boy.

The arguing commenced between the two men as Arturius peeked around the corner. Both of them wore rough spun fabric normally used for carrying grains and animal feed. The burly yet hirsute man looked like a giant. The other man, more skin and bones than anything, looked like he had not eaten anything for days. A fly buzzed around Arturius' face and tickled his nostrils. He started to feel his nose itch and then the panic set in. He tried his best to hold the sneeze in but it snuck its way out.

“Who's there?” the bigger fellow demanded as the petite youngster scrambled in the corner.

Reluctantly, the Dunmer stepped out from where he was hiding. “Me,” he answered back as his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the stone labyrinth. “Just trying to find the Ratway.”

The bigger man took a step back after he saw the metal giant before him. The fight he had in his spirit went away and with a docile voice, he gave directions. “Over there, down quite a ways. The bridge isn't lowered so you have to take the long way around.” The man pointed a finger to the archway with a shaking hand.

“Much appreciated,” Arturius said with a gentle smile. He walked past the men who stood with too much fear to make even a twitch. The air was stagnant now instead of putrid. He wondered if he was just getting used to it or it actually was getting better. There were empty recesses that had rusty gates as doors. “ _Prison cells?”_ Arturius wondered. “ _Either that or makeshift homes that can offer some primitive safety.”_

He kept marching along when he noticed the draw bridge up ahead. The gap was too wide for a normal person to jump across; normal being the keyword. Deciding it would be easier to just leap across instead of walking all around, he judged the distance of the gap. In his mind, he calculated the trajectory needed to make the leap. After taking a several steps back, he charged towards the edge and sprang fearlessly at the upright bridge. He connected hard and dug his fingers into the openings between the planks instantly. The wood groaned under his weight but still held. Not wanting to waste any more time, Arturius quickly shimmied over to the side and awkwardly placed his foot on the ground. Shifting the rest of his weight onto the side, he grappled the planks until he was able to get on the other side.

Sweating profusely over the labor, he pulled out a small canteen and chugged most of it. He drained the rest by splashing it on his face to wash away the perspiration. The stifling underground air made it difficult to cool off along with his armor. His pale ash skin was sticking to the woven leather, making a rather malodorous stench of wet dog. Arturius unbuckled a few straps to get some air flowing in the damp armor. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he no longer felt like a wet furnace.

After his skin got a breath of “fresh” air, Arturius refastened the heavy plate armor once again. He journeyed ahead, seeing another recess on his left. However, this one had a set of stairs that led to a door. “This has to be it.”

Before he reached for the door, he took a pause and looked behind. It felt like something was watching him but after not seeing anything, he went for the door. It creaked open like an ancient coffin finally unearthed. Taken back by the vast size of the circular domain, he noticed a small, murky pond that accented the cavern. Surprisingly, it did not smell bad at all. Looking past the body of water, he noticed a gathering of people communing about.

The atmosphere was like a tavern, complete with a bar and tables for drinks. The laughter he heard earlier suddenly ceased and all sounds were replaced with silence. All eyes were glued on the stranger. Arturius kept calm and started walking along the edge of the pool. A bald and scarred man scooted his chair back to stand up along with a familiar face. He smelled like the man who first greeted him upon entering Riften. Similar but not the same.

“Stop. Not another step,” the bald and haggard man said. “We don't know you so why are you trespassing here?”

Arturius answered back, “Just need to talk to Brynjolf is all.”

“Ah. Did not mention he had a protege.” The man seemed to relax along with the rest of the group. “Let me go grab 'im.”

“Much appreciated.” The older gentleman moved towards the back of the room and disappeared behind a door. Arturius' eyes darted around and was instantly transfixed on one of the women. She had pale white hair and skin. Almost giving into his rage, he restrained himself when he realized it was two completely different people. The only sentiment was the hair color, not even the same style or length.

She noticed Arturius looking at her and gave a hostile stare in return. An uneasy feeling swept over him and decided to sit down at one of the tables. He joined the man who looked like Maul and tried to strike up conversation.

“How's it going?” the elf inquired.

He grunted back in return as he drank from his mug. Arturius sat there uncomfortably as he waited for Brynjolf's return. The man at the table finally spoke. “Are you even a thief or is Brynjolf just desperate for anyone? Probably can't even snatch a purse from a blind man.” His voice sounded just like Maul's.

“That's not for you to decide.”

“If it was, you would be six feet under. What kind of thief wears that get up?” he asked, mocking the dark yet shiny plate armor that adorned Arturius.

“Sound just like Maul,” the Dunmer proclaimed.

That caused an eyebrow to raise in fair haired man. “That would be my brother you are talking about so watch it.”

Arturius took a a bite of some bread as he laughed. “So what is your name then? Sword? Axe? Hammer?”

His lips curled in a snarl. “Actually, it's Dirge. Remember that.”

“And pray tell, why that name?”

“Because I’m the last fucking thing you hear before you are buried in the ground. So mind your place.” Dirge sat back in his chair and finished the rest of his drink before calling out for someone named Vekel for another.

“Me too,” Arturius added. However, Vekel only came by with one drink for Dirge.

“Until the Guild Master says so, no drinks for you,” the barkeep sneered before returning back to serving ale and other commodities among the other patrons.

All of a sudden, the door in the back of the room burst open, causing a ruckus that made all the chatter cease immediately. Brynjolf stood with the older man who went to get him. Both of them infuriated which made everyone else tense as well.

“Grab him!” Brynjolf ordered. Without a second to spare, Dirge jumped over the table and lunged at the elf sitting across from him. Arturius moved with the motion as he fell backwards, planting a knee in Dirge's stomach and tossing him into the ravine.

“I did not come here for a fight!” Arturius shouted but the words fell on deaf ears. All the thieves stood up and had their weapons drawn. Daggers, bows, swords, even a broken wine bottle were drawn and ready to kill.

“Then why are you here? Told you already lad, you were wasting your time trying to get information about the Dark Brotherhood.”

The underground tavern stood silent as everyone stared at Arturius.

The bald man spoke up, “Wait...You're saying he is going after _her_?”

“Aye, Delvin. Not only that, but he is dumb enough to come to our home by himself thinking that would change my mind.” Almost everyone laughed at the lone elf.

“Like I said...I am not here to fight. I just want to talk. It's very important.” Arturius kept trying to draw out some moral implications from Brynjolf in the hopes of changing his mind.

“I suggest turning around while you still can.” Delvin pointed to the door beyond the pool. “And don't ever come back.”

Before Arturius could take a step, Dirge lunged from the water like a rabid bear and tackled the elf. The two rolled on the dirty ground as they fought. Dirge was at an advantage by not wearing such restricting and heavy armor. The flexibility of the leather allowed for him to maneuver easily around his steel clad opponent. Everyone was cheering for Dirge as the two circled each other. The bouncer lunged once again at Arturius with all his weight to throw him off balance. With prepared ingenuity of fighting experience, he caught the charging thief in a headlock as he fell backwards. Completely helpless against the massive elf, he flailed his arms and fists in desperation. Arturius kept his lock in and kept applying pressure Dirge's carotid artery. The thrashing of his limbs started to dissipate until they laid still.

“I told you...” Arturius started to say as he released his grip on the unconscious Dirge. “I did not want to fight.”

Before anyone else interjected, Vipir rushed through the entrance near the bar. Sweating profusely, he tried to catch his breath. “Brynjolf!” He managed to say between gasps. “Nova will be here...within the hour.” He sank into a chair as Vekel rushed by with a mug of water.

“Dammit Vipir!” Brynjolf shouted. “Not another word!”

“So...is that her name?” Arturius asked. “Nova.” He spoke her name for the first time, feeling tension build up from remembering their encounter. “That was all I needed. Thank you.”

Vipir looked up and looked at who said that. When he saw the smug look of Arturius, he almost fell out of his chair. “How...What....Why is he here?!” He managed to spit out.

Brynjolf sighed heavily. “Well, he was looking for any information about Nova. Not sure how a name is going to help.”

Vipir in all his stupidity spoke up once again. “Does Ysolda know about him?”

“VIPIR!” Almost everyone shouted in unison at when her name was spoken. Vipir covered his mouth but what was done is done. Rage poured over Brynjolf as he wished he could have cut the tongue from the loose lipped thief. Delvin's face grimaced as he shook his head. Arturius stood there dumbfounded.

“Ysolda? What does she have to do with...” Then the pieces fell into place. When he called the vampire 'm'lady' and how affronted she was by that name, she was involved with someone. But Ysolda? Was she involved with the Dark Brotherhood as well? She didn't carry herself like an assassin or anything. Either that or she was a very good actress.

Brynjolf walked over to the table that the guilt ridden Vipir and gave him a well deserved sucker punch. Him and the chair crashed heavily on the ground as Brynjolf pointed a finger at the talkative idiot. “We'll discuss your punishment later.” He moved his finger at Arturius. “You are staying right where you are. Delvin, Vex, get the chains.” Arturius stood his ground as he watched the white haired woman and bald man go and grab the proper restraints.

The elf let out a laugh and started clapping. “You think that you need to chain me down? Do you _really_ want to try to restrain me?” He challenged.

Vex and Delvin looked at Brynjolf for an answer. He gave them a nod. “Do it.”

Arturius chuckled as he stretched his arms. A tinge of pain made his shoulder twitch. “You fools. I don't want to do this but I will if I have to.”

Brynjolf argued back. “Arturius...You come into our home, surrounded by the best thieves in Skyrim, and you think you, by yourself, can take us all on? You must be hitting the ale too much, lad.”

“You think arrows and daggers are able to make it past my armor?” he boasted, thumping his chest like a barbarian.

“All that armor and yet, you leave the most important part vulnerable.” He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Before Arturius could react, he felt someone jump on his back. As he struggled to get the intruder off, a foul smelling rag smothered his face. He grabbed his assailant by the arm and leaned down to throw her off. She wrapped her legs around his waist to hold on close, stuck to him while he felt his strength fading. His legs started to give out as he dropped to his hands and knees. Only able to grab her hair for a short time before his blood red eyes rolled over in his head, he finally collapsed.

“Good work, Tonilia,” Brynjolf complimented as he crept towards the unconscious intruder. “Now we can chain him up.”

* * *

Ysolda washed off the top of the kiosk and gathered the unsold fruit not fit for tomorrow into a basket. The garden at home is great for recycling produce that does not get sold. She hummed happily as she closed up her booth and pocketed her earnings. Although her purse was not as heavy, the smiling customers helped cheer up her day. The smile that formed on her face turned into a grin as she thought about heading home. A long day of sales made missing her wife worth it. As Ysolda headed out, she waved to the passing townsfolk and gave enlightened blessings.

The heavy gates opened before she even asked the guard. One of the small perks for being with someone well known and feared. The evening air got cold once the sun started to set, no longer offering its warmth. Ysolda grabbed her scarf and tunic to help keep the chill at bay. The moons were half full and Ysolda could not remember if it was waxing or waning. The wind blew gently as she hummed along the path towards her home of peace. Instead of walking, her cheery disposition made her want to skip, causing the coins to jingle as extra music to her wordless singing.

Up ahead, she saw a figure in the distance jetting towards her. The twilight did not offer enough light to see who it was but enough to know there was someone. Out of fear, she ducked off the side of the road to get behind a tree. “ _Don't be Arturius...Please, don't be him.”_ The steps grew louder with each passing second as Ysolda closed her eyes. Her heartbeat grew louder and was scared it would give her away. The strides finally drew quiet as she held her breath, waiting for something to happen. Silence echoed through the air while Ysolda held deathly still, save for her pulsating heart.

“Ysolda?” Nova inquired. “Why are you hiding from me?”

The living Nord let out a sigh of relief before she jumped up into the arms of her lover. “I didn't know it was you.”

Nova embraced her wife but had a puzzled look on her face.“Where is your escort?”

Ysolda pulled back to look into Nova's eyes. “Why would I need an escort?” she asked in a confused tone.

“I...wanted to make sure you made it back safely. That's all.” Nova answered with a half truth and smile. “I have important business to discuss with Brynjolf. I don't want you to be alone right now.”

“Nova...” Ysolda said with a tone that would be used on a child trying to cover up the truth. “I know in your line of work, it can be dangerous. I've accepted that. Our deal was if we are going to be together, we are to be honest with each other. So tell me...What is wrong and why did you request protection?”

Nova let out a despondent sigh. “There's a hunter who is after me. I was afraid he would try to use you to get to me. Not only that but it seemed he talked to Brynjolf about me, trying to get some details. Turns out, he also talked to you as well.”

“Yeah, he did talk to me but he knew not about us. We actually knew each other or rather knew _of_ each other in Whiterun.”

“So why did you talk to him then?” Nova demanded.

“He was just a regular customer to me. I didn't know till later, when Brynjolf told me, that the elf was asking questions about you.” Ysolda said defensively. “It's not like I knew beforehand who he really was.”

Nova's eyes started to turn color, from her steely blue to an orange luminescence. “You have no idea.”

Ysolda put a comforting hand on her wife's cheek, caressing her face. “Calm down love. We will resolve this. We, not just you. Okay?” The fiery eyes slowly cooled down to their original blue when she said that.

“If he is still there, I don't want you to be put in harm’s way. I also don’t want you to witness what I do as well,” she said with a sullen voice.

“Shush. As long as I am with you and you keep loving me the way you have, I will never leave you,” she said, trying to put some reassurance into her lover.

“I should have taken out the bastard when I had the chance.”

“So you did cross paths with him then?” Ysolda stood with her arms crossed in anger.

“I never said I didn't?”

“So you really snagged your armor on a branch then?”

Nova looked down at the ground, avoiding eye contact when Ysolda asked her. She could tell her wife was upset with the way she tapped her foot on the ground as well.

“He shot me with an arrow,” Nova mumbled under her breath.

“What?” Ysolda asked.

“I said,” Nova looked up into her wife's eyes but her head still tilted down. “He shot me with an arrow.”

She grabbed Nova by the shoulders, squeezing them tight as her nails dug into the blackened leather. She winced in pain from her shoulder as Ysolda's voice screeched like a banshee. “Why didn't you say anything!? Why did you hide it?!”

“Because I can handle myself. I'm fine! Quit worrying about me so much.” Nova tried to shrug the death grip Ysolda had on her but she did not let go.

“If you think I need to stop worrying about you then you are asking me to stop loving and caring about you as well. I can't.” She pulled Nova close so their chests touched. “Do you feel that? Do you feel that heart beat? It's for you, Nova. You can't tell me to stop worrying about you. The same way you can't about me.”

Ysolda's cheeks became her personal waterfall as she spoke those words. Nova's arms that were dead and lifeless at her side were revived as she held her wife. “I know, dear, I know. I didn't mean to come off like that.” The vampire wiped away the tears that ran down her partner's cheek. Ysolda's eyes burned from crying and kept them closed tight. “I'll be more up front about what goes on. Just don't panic when I do?” Nova stroked Ysolda's carmine hair in a soothing manner in the hopes of calming her anxiety.

The living Nord nodded and smiled lovingly at Nova. “No promises, but I'll try, love.”

“All is well between us?” Nova asked in the hopes of not wasting any more time on the matter. She still had to talk to Brynjolf and see what should be done about the hunter.

“Of course. Shall we?” Ysolda grabbed her wife's hand and started to walk down the path to town.

“Leading the way then?”

Ysolda stared down the long and dark path that gave an ominous sensation down her spine. The waxing gibbous moons were being masked by the clouds and the trees were skeletons that looked as if they would reach out and snatch her skin. “Umm...Maybe you should?” She asked in a nervous tone.

“I will not let anything get to you. Except me.” Nova tickled her wife's sides playfully, making her scream. Without thinking, Ysolda threw an open palm towards the vampire's face. Nova ducked under the swing and wrapped her arms around her.

“Nova...” she said sternly. “You know I hate that.”

“Just testing your reflexes.” She kept holding onto Ysolda and kissed her neck for forgiveness. Nova let out a shudder, trying to keep her mouth from drooling over the inviting neck. Her teeth became sharp and jagged, more animal than human but resisted the urge to drain her lover.

“You're thirsty, aren't you?” Ysolda asked as she turned around to face her creature of the night. “You must be starving. You should not just rely on me.”

Her fangs receded gradually back into their regular form, calming down her bloodlust. Nova shook her head slenderly to come back from her daze. “I'm sorry...Repeat that?”

“I said, you don't need to rely on just me. I don't want you to become so blood starved, you end up taking too much. I also don't want you to become so weak and frail that you end up getting yourself killed.”

“I don't feel comfortable with someone who isn't you though. Feels...wrong.” The thought of tasting someone else's blood turned her thirst into revulsion.

“Feeding off others isn't the same as having an affair. Tis no different than me having a nice, juicy steak instead of stew.” Ysolda tried to explain.

“Except you're the steak so why would I want stew?” Nova retorted jestingly.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart. You have to keep your strength up but it is more than what I can offer you.” She brushed her hair behind her ear and tilted her neck to the side; exposing the pulsating vein before Nova. “Not too much.”

The vampire could feel her fangs growing again in anticipation, ready to be bathed in the sweet crimson nectar. Her steely blue eyes fluttered before they changed into the hungry, orange shade.

Ysolda sealed her eyes tight as she felt the canines pierce her soft flesh. The pain made her gasp slightly as she clenched onto Nova, digging her nails into the black leather. Any harder and a few of them would have broken off.

Nova lapped her tongue up to savor the taste, loving each second. The sun made her thirstier than usual so she wanted more. The tapping on her shoulder was as a signal to stop. The grip on her wife's neck was released but used her tongue to wipe off any extra she could get.

Ysolda winced as she covered the small wound on her neck. “You need to slow down next time.”

Nova could tell the thirst got to the better of her with how flush her wife became. The blood was still on her lips, wearing it instead of finishing her meal. A look of guilt washed over Nova as she pulled away to put distance between the two of them.

Ysolda saw the despondent vampire and immediately comforted her. “No, no, no. Don't feel bad. I’ve just never have seen you that thirsty before. You should never be blood starved like that again.” Ysolda's fingers traced Nova's lips, wiping the rest of the vermillion fluid off her mouth and having Nova lick the extremity clean. “There you go. How do you feel?”

Nova took a deep sigh of relief, feeling refreshed after sating her appetite. “Better now.” she said towards both her kind words and repleting her hunger. She scooped Ysolda up in her arms and kissed her passionately, their tongues dancing and fighting over each other. “Figure I could do right by you now.”

“Going to carry me like a damsel in distress?” Ysolda put her arm around the back of Nova's neck and nuzzled her close, resting her head on the vampire's clavicle.

“Just rest. We'll be at Riften soon.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who was probably wondering if this story is long, it very much is. If you are reading this, you are about 11% done. If that is a turn off, I cannot say I am sorry. My characters have a mind of their own and I just go with the flow. However, for those looking for long hours of reading, this will keep you entertained for quite a while.


	7. The Dark Deal

Brynjolf looked up into the grated skylight above, seeing one of the half full moons shining down into the Ragged Flagon. “ _Tis dark._ _Where is she?”_ He tapped his foot impatiently in a spastic rhythm. His eyes darted around the circular chamber, watching everyone enjoying their drinks and stories. The only one not enjoying the mirth besides himself was Vipir. After his slip of the tongue, not once but twice in the company of the hunter, he was put on guard duty in the Rat Way.

The intruder was chained down, stripped of his armor and weapons. The team actually had to improvise due to Arturius' magnitude. The collar was put around his wrists and extra shackles had to be linked together to wrap around his bodily structure. The amount of iron and steel needed rivaled the weight of any of the thieves. It was better to be safe than sorry.

“Hey Bryn, come have a drink!” Vekel shouted from across the way. Everyone else agreed as they tried to break the somber redhead from his mood.

“Not right now, lad. Maybe later.” He kept focus on the unconscious grey skin, getting nervous from each twitch and mumble. The thief had no idea why the elf came down here by himself. Could there be more?

His watchful eyes concentrated on the prisoner, tuning out most everything else around him. Delvin came up behind Brynjolf and tapped him on the shoulder. A startled Brynjolf flinched reflexively before turning around to face his brother in business.

“Need to have a word with you,” Delvin said in a hushed whisper. “Away from prying ears.”

“Something wrong?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not sure yet. Question is, how did he find us here?”

“Word gets around town. Just ask a few people and they will point the way.”

Delvin shook his head and let out a sigh. “Never mind then. What are we going to do with him?”

“Tis dark. I had Vipir deliver a message to Nova since the elf seems to have a fixation on capturing her. Should be here soon.”

“Yeah...Don't know what this idiot was thinking.” Delvin chuckled. “I mean, who comes into the Guild by himself trying to get the leader of the most notorious and cold blooded group of assassins? He's big but that doesn't mean much if outnumbered.”

“Aye. I only met her the one time and that was to talk to you. When I asked her why, all she said was, _'Don't waste my time and just tell me.'_ Still sends chills down my spine with how she said that,” Brynjolf shivered.

“Heh. Nasty bit of work she is. Rather her an ally though, wouldn't you agree?”

Brynjolf nodded in agreement. “I've heard tales about the new leader. Is it true someone told her to hang someone by their intestines?”

“Not only that but he didn't die from being gutted like a fish. It was the hanging that finished him off.”

A look of horror and disgust crept over the both of them, trying to imagine how that was even possible.

“So tell me Delvin, how come we have to keep a watch over her lass?”

“She pays well,” he replied back with a grin on his face. “50 septims a day and she's paid up for the next three moons.”

“Blessed be for us then, eh?”

“Besides the revenue from Nova, how's our take lately?” Delvin asked with some concern.

“Well, if I figure right, about half of our income comes from your associate. We're barely making ends meet.”

“Swear, we've pissed off some Divine. If it wasn't for bad luck, we would not have any at all.”

Brynjolf sighed with a heavy heart. “Something is wrong...Just not sure what.”

The door from behind the bar swung open, catching the attention of every person there. Nova stood in the doorway with Ysolda right behind her. “I need to speak to Brynjolf... _Now_.” Her voice carried a haunting chill with that last word and made everyone paralyzed with fear. No one made a sound or even looked at her.

“Don't make her wait,” Delvin whispered as he elbowed Brynjolf gently.

The redheaded criminal cleared his throat because he was afraid his voice would squeak if he tried to say something. He didn't have to do it loud with how still the quiet air was. The vampire looked over and saw the man she needed to talk to.

“Go have a drink, Ysolda. I have some business to take care of.”

Delvin patted Brynjolf on the shoulder and tried his best to be comforting. “Good luck,” was all he could muster before he started to head towards the bar.

With each step she took, Nova could hear the loud, thumping of Brynjolf's heart speeding up. However, his face did not betray how he felt on the inside and remained stoic. Nova gave a wordless nod to Delvin as he passed her with him returning it in kind. She stood before the tense thief with her arms crossed. “So...he is here in Riften? Or has he left since then?”

His eyes flickered in fear when he responded. “He's here actually.”

“Here?” she asked sternly. “What do you mean, _'here_?”

“There.” He raised a finger to the darkened nook where the knocked out elf was being detained.

Her head turned slowly as her eyes pierced the dark cranny and saw the sleeping dog. Nova's gaze returned back to Brynjolf with confusion and anger. “He is still alive?”

“Umm...Yes?” he answered.

“What I meant was...” The assassin took a step closer to Brynjolf, enough to feel his hot breath. “ _Why_ is he still alive?”

The thief scratched the back of his neck nervously but still spoke with authority in the matter. “This sounds more like a issue for you than with me. We're not killers, lass. That's your department. Besides, he intruded on our territory and we responded like we would any fool who came down there uninvited.”

Nova studied Brynjolf, impressed by the unexpected confidence he exhibited. “Good answer.” The night stalker patted the man on the cheek and let out an honest smile. “What does he know?”

“Nothing much or he would not be down here asking questions about you.”

“So he knew enough to come down here then. What else?”

“That's pretty much it. He jus-”

“Pretty much implies more,” Nova interrupted before he could say another word. “What else?”

He let out a sigh as he looked at the ground. “He knows about Ysolda.”

Had Brynjolf been alone when he told her that, she would have thrown him across the room and an arrow pinning him up on the wall. Instead, she flared her nostrils and punched the dirty ground. The loud blow caught the attention of the other thieves who whispered amongst themselves as silently as possible.

“Not like it would have mattered. If I had known he was in here, I would not have brought her with me.” Nova muttered as she rose from her kneeled position. “Now, how do we do with the wolf?”

“Wait...Wolf? He be a damned beast?! Gods, what in Oblivion have you dragged us into?” Brynjolf paced back and forth, trying to sort out his thoughts on the matter.

“Well, he won't be a problem much longer.” She procured her favorite blade and smiled sinfully. “So don't worry so much.”

Arturius awoke from the opaque water being tossed on him. He tried to jump up but something was holding him down. He looked around groggily as to what it was. “Chains? What in the...”He pulled them only an inch or two before they became taut. The amount of metal restraining him was too much, almost like a metal coffin.

“I have some questions for you, hunter,” came a voice very familiar following the sound of a pail being tossed aside.

Arturius squinted to focus his eyes on the vampire. “I'm not answering anything,” he spat out in defiance.

“Just so you know; killing is not what I am best at.” She knelt down beside him and whispered in the elf's ear. “It's pain. If I do it just right and take my time, I can cut out your heart and show it to you before you die.”

“Trust me, lad. You don't want to know what she is capable off,” Brynjolf suggested.

All Arturius did was stare back with enmity in his eyes, keeping his breathing steady. The tables were turned as they now found themselves in traded places. The only difference was Arturius was not going to go so far as what Nova had planned.

“How can someone as sweet as Ysolda marry such a cold hearted creature such as yourself?”

Immediately, his face stung from the backhand Nova gave him. “Watch what you say about her.”

“I've already been through worse than you can imagine,” Arturius challenged with a galling chortle. “So do your worst.”

She pulled out the otherworldly dagger and traced it along his jawline, cutting a few hairs off his goatee. “Trust me; you haven't seen my worst.” Nova cracked her knuckles and stretched her pallid arms. “Rules are simple, wolf. You answer my questions, you live. You don't answer, I will encourage you to. How far I go is completely up to you.”

Instead of playing the sick, twisted game, Arturius thought about the way she reacted from bringing up her wife. He figured he could play that angle some more. “I am sure your wife hasn't seen your worst either.”

Nova yanked him by the tuft of his hair, placing the dagger's edge along his exposed neck. “My hand can get a little shaky when I'm angry. Don't want to slip and end up nicking a vein, do we?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you would have done so already,” he grunted. “But what I said is true. Your wife may have married a killer but she has no idea the extent of what you do.”

A grim countenance possessed Nova, knowing what he said was the painful truth. Ysolda never witnessed anything she has done. Not the priest she killed for the Razor or how she ripped the teeth out of a noble after he called her a cunt. And the worst part was how she was tasked with killing a Khajiit from the very caravan that Ysolda worked with. A close friend at that. Ysolda cried for two weeks over his death and Nova had to burden the guilt of the only contract regretted. She had to play comforter for the very pain she caused. Her wife had no idea whose blood was on her hands or how many victims begged for release. Although she was a professional monster in her line of work, Nova kept that separate from her home life. No one could relate the two sides the vampire as the same person except by looks alone. Not even the person she called her soul mate.

She let loose the grip she had on his tangled mess of hair and stood up. “You're right on that, wolf. She has never seen what I am capable of. She knows though, and still, she stands by my side.” Nova began to smile, feeling enlightened from the love she has. “So you can stop trying to use her as a weakness.”

“Or maybe you want me to stop talking because you'll realize that if she saw how dirty you've gotten your hands, she will stop loving you?” Arturius said, playing the same mind games as before.

Before Nova could let a word escape, Ysolda interjected. “You're wrong about that, Arturius.” The vampire did not realize how easy voices carry with how quiet the Ragged Flagon was.

After draining the last of her drink at the bar, Ysolda thanked Vekel and made her way towards the trio. Brynjolf stood awkwardly while Nova still had her dagger clutched tight in her quivering hand.

“Calm yourself, sweetheart.” She took the shaking hand and grasped it in the hopes of pacifying her wife. Ysolda turned her focus on the elf, frowning at his attempts to upset Nova. “Why are you hunting down Nova?”

“You're serious? She's not only a vampire but Dark Brotherhood as well!” Arturius shouted, making it well heard by everyone.

“Yes, I know. So are you a bounty hunter then looking to cash in on her being captured?”

“I'm not a bounty hunter. I am a vampire hunter,” he hissed.

“So in this a personal vendetta or you just going after her just because?” Ysolda pressed on with her questions.

“Her personally? Nothing. She just caught the attention of the Dawnguard. Between that and her having a hand in the murders of the royal family, it's like killing two birds with one stone. Not to mention the fresh body of the woman's husband th-”

“How do you know that?” Nova interrupted before he continued his rambling.

“I followed the scent of the dead man,” Arturius sniffed. “I was actually quite surprised as to what the woman told me.”

“What did you do to her?!” Nova demanded through gritted teeth.

Arturius sighed and looked down to the ground. “I didn't do anything. I was about to turn her in but I saw the bruises on her face. She didn't seem to care her husband died. I just sort of figured she was the one who hired the Dark Brotherhood. Not that I blame her after seeing how bad she was being beat. I just let it go and moved on.”

Ysolda then requested, “Why does the Dawnguard want Nova so bad? If they are vampire hunters, why target her specifically?”

“I think I answered enough questions already. Let me go,” he demanded.

Nova tried her best not to laugh at loud but still let out a giggle. “You're not in any position to make demands, mutt.”

“What are you going to do then? Kill me? I already told the Dawnguard to come down here if I am not back by sunrise. I am one of the nicer ones. The things you do are child's play compared to what they will have in store for all of you.” he said in a mocking tone.

“You're lying,” Nova proclaimed, unfazed by what he just said.

“Go ahead if you think I am. Just too bad I won't be around to see you lose your family...Again.”

With unfurling rage, Nova swung her dagger at the elf's neck, ready to decapitate him with as many strikes as needed. However, Brynjolf snatched her wrist before she could do so. The blade was barely an inch away from slicing his neck.

“You're not doing this here, especially with what he just said. Understand, lass?”

“Since when do you start giving me orders?” Nova said with spiteful vehemence as she yanked her hand free from his grip.

“If what he said is true, I am not going to put everyone at risk for your petty revenge!”

“He tried to kill me! The only reason why he failed was because he turned his back and I got away. I am _not_ going to make the same mistake he did!”

“Nova...” Ysolda used that tone of voice when she was mad at her wife. “This is their home, you follow their rules.”

“But he-”

“Don't,” Ysolda said before she could get another word in.

“Ugh,” she said with a grunt of reluctant agreement. “Fine.” The two men were shocked at how someone could stop one of the most deadly people in Skyrim with only words.

Delvin made his way over to check on the situation. “Everything okay, Bryn?”

“We have a problem,” he replied. “If he doesn't return by sunrise, we're going to have a bunch of people looking for him. And by people, I mean vampire hunters.”

Delvin stood with a frozen smile. “You're joking, right?”

“'fraid not.”

The grin on his face melted away faster than a snowball caught in a dragon's fire. “What in the Divines have you dragged us into, Moonshade?”

“I didn't ask him to come down here. He was the one trying to find me,” she defended.

“Right. Of course. You're innocent in all this.”

“Don't start with me, Malory. I'm already pissed off at this mutt; you don't want to add to it,” she threatened.

“So what are we going to do now?” Ysolda asked.

A hint of laughter escaped from Brynjolf. “We? This mess isn’t ours to clean up.”

“But it still involves you,” she returned.

“Enough of this,” Nova said with exasperation. She knelt down and grabbed Arturius by the hair, slamming his head against the musty stone wall. “Why are you so dead set on hunting me down? What makes me so damn special that you spent all this time coming after me when there are so many other vampires you can kill?”

A small trickle of blood oozed into Arturius' hair. “Why should I give you the privilege of knowing?”

“Do you not remember what I said about your heart?”

“I also remember you saying something along the lines of letting me go if I tell you what you want to know,” he stated.

The grip she had on his entangled hair was released and instead, she started to pet him gently. “Oh...I never said anything about letting you go. I said I would let you live. Big difference.”

Nova wiped the trace amount of blood off her hand before she reached into a pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. It was a note that Arturius had on him earlier. “So here is my first question. How did you find the exact place and time to find me?”

Arturius' aggravated stare was the only thing he offered.

Nova grabbed him by his hairy chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “Do you really want to go down this path, mutt?”

“Do what you must...I'm not saying anything as long as freedom is out of my grasp.”

“The only freedom you will want is from the pain after I am through with you.” The Razor found its way into her hand again. She teased the elf by tracing his jawline with the edge, slowly circling his face. “The longest someone held out on me wasn't even three minutes. Think you can beat the record?”

“If you keep talking, I won't last that long either,” he said with a smirk on his face.

Everyone in earshot dropped their jaw at what he said. The only one who smiled was Nova. “Always refreshing to have someone like you. Full of spirit and humor. Makes it even more delightful once you break.”

“Worse people than you tried and failed. They also suffered more for it than what they did to me. Are _you_ sure you want to walk down this path, bloodsucker?” Arturius threatened, mirroring Nova's attitude back at her.

“For those who are squeamish over blood, screaming, possible involuntary bowel movements, I suggest you leave,” she announced to the whole clan of thieves.

Whether it was out of fear of doing so or morbid curiosity, no one moved. Brynjolf shook his head and walked towards the bar in the hopes of taking the edge off his disgust. “Make it a double,” he requested to Vekel.

As the drink poured into the goblet, the bartender whispered, “What's Mercer going to do when he finds out about this?”

Brynjolf shook his head and downed his drink in seconds. “Hell if I know. I just wish Delvin never got involved with that group of killers. Would not be having this problem now,” he griped then tapped on the goblet for a refill.

The drink poured out the rest of its contents and then Vekel tossed the empty bottle to the side to be forgotten. “Wish in one hand, shit in the other,” was his solace towards the sullen Brynjolf.

“Aye,” was the only thing Brynjolf could say as he finished the last of the bitter ale.

Suddenly, a loud yell bellowed from the throat of Arturius, causing everyone to turn their heads. Nova was slicing into his arm, carving into him like carpenter shaving wood.

“Tell me. What does the Dawnguard want with me?” Nova said calmly, as if she were asking how his day was.

Arturius gritted his teeth, staring at the bloody gash on his wrist. How she managed to not hit the vein was either pure luck or skill. Either way, it was still dangerous and terrifying. He looked up at Nova with burning eyes, wishing he could break the chains and tear her throat out with his teeth. However, what caught his attention was the horrified look on Ysolda's face.

“This is what your wife is like, Ysolda. You can see her for the monster tha-”

Nova bashed the hilt of the Razor against his jaw, hard enough to rattle his teeth but not to where she broke any. “You will be addressing me, mutt.” This time, irritation and contempt rose in her voice.

Arturius looked up with a bloody grin, covering up the daze the best he could. “Like I said, I dealt with worse. Considering the fact that I am still alive, you are not going to kill me."

“That was just foreplay; a tease if anything.” Her tongue grazed the dagger but was revolted by the taste. Nova quickly spit it out like poison. “Ugh. Tastes like boiled piss.”

Nova felt a tug on her arm. She turned around to see the frightened look on her wife as if the gates of Oblivion have opened up in front of her. “Please...Stop. This isn't right. There has to be a better way than this.”

“I don't think it would be best for you to be here. You won't be able to unsee this and I don't want you to have nightmares.” Nova suggested as she caressed her wife's face with her clean hand.

“Just...Please, let me try?” Ysolda took her wife's hand and intertwined their fingers, kissing them gently.

“I'll leave you two be,” Delvin said as he went to join the rest of the clan keeping their distance.

Nova looked disparagingly at her Day Star. “What are you planning to do?”

“Something gentle. A more soothing touch,” she exclaimed in a soft tone.

Before Nova could say anything, Arturius spoke up. “Sorry, but I do not believe in extramarital affairs.”

Ysolda stopped Nova preemptively from lashing out at the Dunmer for his remark. The living Nord stepped in front of Arturius and squatted down. “How come you can't tell us why you are so set on getting Nova?”

“Why should I?” he defied. It was like talking to a brick wall, only more aggravating.

“You desire freedom, do you not?”

“What?” Nova and Arturius said simultaneously in surprise.

“You tell us why Nova is so important, you will be free.” Ysolda said. “I promise.”

With a raised eyebrow, Arturius shifted his focus on the vampire. Her lips curled with repressed anger as her eyes turned from a cold blue to a glowing orange. Arturius moved his eyes away from her and towards Ysolda again.

“And her?” he asked.

“As long as you do not go after her again, I can guarantee she will keep her word.”

Nova's hands formed into white knuckle tight fists, not that they weren't already pale to begin with. “Sweetie,” she said as calm as possible through gritted teeth. “May I have a word with you?”

“This is the best option for all involved.” Ysolda said. “If you kill him, the guild will suffer along with both of us. If you detain him, he will be found and the same fate will happen.”

“You cannot trust him!”

“It's not me who has to trust him,” she said in a puzzling manner. Ysolda stood up straight and faced her wife. “It's you that has to.”

Nova shook her head, scoffing at the absurd notion. “And pray tell, how do you expect that to happen?”

“Because you can see into people's hearts. You can tell their fear, by their emotions if they are lying or hiding something.” Ysolda suggested subliminally.

“That's what I have to go off of? Seriously?”

Ysolda rested her hands on her hips. “Do you have a better suggestion?”

After taking a moment to think about the idea, Nova sighed hesitantly. “I don't like this. At all.”

“I trust your judgment,” Ysolda said with hope in her eyes.

“Doesn't mean I do,” snarled Arturius.

“You don't have to,” Ysolda said in reply and then turned back to face the elf. “That doesn't mean she will break her word.”

“Oh, so just trust you because you said so,” Arturius said sarcastically. “Good plan.”

The vampire walked by Ysolda and stared down at the chained and shackled prisoner before her. “You tell me what I want to hear and you will be free to go. So long as you keep your distance, I will keep mine. Is that understood?”

The captive Dunmer stared deep into her eyes, noticing that the orange and fiery hue went back to the soothing cerulean as before. The hypnotic gaze was entrancing, seeing beauty personified as if she were a divinity herself.

Nova snapped her fingers in front of Arturius' face. “Did you hear me?”

Arturius got out of his brief daydream. “Yes, I did. Doesn't mean I believe it.”

“Would you rather me do it the other way?” she asked, pulling out the Razor that had dried blood caked on it.

After thinking about it and realizing there was no other option, he gave in. “You swear on your love for Ysolda that you will let go?”

“Why are you always trying to use her against me?”

“Promise me that and I will tell you,” Arturius demanded with unwavering fierceness.

Nova turned her head at her wife for approval which she gave with a simple nod. With hesitancy, she had trouble forming the words. She swallowed heavily and took a deep breath. “I swear on Ysolda and I's love that your life will be spared.”

“And?” Arturius added.

The nostrils on her nose flared as she closed her eyes. “And you will be free,” Nova grunted.

“Unchain me then,” he blatantly demanded.

Nova shook her head while laughing. “Information first, freedom after.”

“With this gash you gave me, I need to to tend to it. I just need my other hand to be free is all,” the elf requested.

“You won't bleed out so don't worry your fur off.”

“I care not if that is true. I still want to heal it.”

“Remember what you said when you captured me? ' _You are in no position to make demands.'_ Same thing applies here. I am doing you a favor that I have never given anyone else. Consider yourself lucky you still draw breath, let alone, are getting asylum afterward.”

Ysolda put her two septims in. “Don't throw away your life, please. This is best for all parties involved, yourself included. ”

He could not understand how someone as sweet and caring like Ysolda could be married to someone who is their polar opposite. A sadistic and vengeful killer who has probably slaughtered more people than she could remember. Or maybe Ysolda had her share of bloodshed herself. Unlikely, he decided. Her innocent eyes when she saw Nova slicing into his arm said otherwise.

Nova reached into her satchel and retrieved a small vial filled with some dark red syrup. “If you are so worried about your wound, this is all I can offer.” She tore the cork out with her teeth and poured the salve directly onto his wound.

Arturius immediately bellowed in pain as he felt the sting of bees erupt into his arm. If he had the Dawnbreaker in his hand, he would have lopped it off at the elbow before sinking the blade into Nova's heart. Being chained down, he was forced to hold still despite wanting to writhe in misery.

“Gods, I thought you said you weren't going to torture me anymore, you bitch!”

“Says the grown man who is acting like one. Shut up and give it a few seconds.”

Arturius tried blowing on it to put out the invisible fire that was torching its way through the flesh. What seemed like an eternity, the burning hellfire was replaced with a soothing sensation. Whether it was blissful because the agony ended or because it was actually was pacifying, he was just glad it ended.

The elf looked down at his arm and was amazed at the magic before his eyes. The lesion not only stopped bleeding, but already had scar tissue forming. It was as if weeks of healing took place in mere moments.

“Still think of me as a bitch?” Nova teased.

A guilty look of sorts came over Arturius, although he felt he shouldn't since she was the one who cut him in the first place. He gave a disinclined nod of appreciation instead of an apology.

“Want the long version or th-”

“Short,” the vampire interrupted.

“Very well,” he said with a nod. “The simple truth of the matter is there was a rumor of a vampire that delved in necromancy but that was not the case when I arrived. She was a sage of sorts. Ironically, despite being a necromancer, she taught me how to fight against their ilk. She said the two of us have a destiny.”

Nova glared suspiciously. “Us? What did she mean by 'us'?”

Arturius shrugged at the answer, not knowing it either. “She was cryptic in all her answers.”

Disbelief filled Nova's eyes at the explanation that turned to a stifled laugh. “A destiny? The next time we cross paths, I can assure you, the only destiny we share will be one of us at the end of a blade.”

“Doesn't matter. I shared what you wanted to know.” Arturius raised his shackled hands toward Nova. “Now about our deal...”

The vampire furrowed her eyebrows and studied the elf. “You are going to leave us be?”

Arturius nodded. “I am a mer of my word, as long as yours is kept as well.”

With some reluctance, Nova reached into her pocket and retrieved the key to his shackles. Normally, her hands were still even in dire circumstances but they shook slightly with nervous tension as she turned the key. The shackles clicked open and released the chains around the elf's wrist. She continued carefully as if dealing with a magical explosive that would repeat what happened at Winterhold.

“I'm not going to bite,” Arturius said, trying to reassure her. It had little affect as she moved on hastily to each lock.

Finally, as the last fastening came undone, Arturius stood up. The loin cloth he was wearing barely covered his privates as he stretched his sore muscles. “What about my gear?” he asked as his neck cracked loudly.

“You can get your armor but your weapons stay with us till you are outside the gates,” Nova responded. She pointed a finger towards the recess next to him that had his gear piled up haphazardly.

Arturius grumbled with a soft curse as he looked over his armor. There were already some scratches and a film of dirt blanketing the once polished metal. Realizing he did not have rags on him, (except for the only one preventing him from being stark naked) he decided to let it go for now and clean it up once he departs this depressing place.

Grabbing the heavy chest piece, Arturius started to strap himself in to become the metal behemoth he once was again. Nova tapped her foot impatiently as he put on every piece of equipment slowly. She even let out an aggravated sigh as she watched Arturius sit down to put on his greaves.

Ysolda nudged her wife gently. “Something wrong?”

“Yeah. He is taking longer than you when picking out a dress at the Radiant...whatever.”

“Raiment,” Ysolda corrected. “And it's not my fault they have a lot of nice clothes. Besides, you don't complain once you see it on me.”

Nova quirked an eyebrow. “It's not what you wear, it's how you take it off.”

“Oh shush. That is not appropriate in earshot of others.” Ysolda's face started to redden.

“You still have enough blood to blush at least,” Nova said to add to the teasing.

They both giggled softly, completely forgetting about Arturius who turned his edged ears to pick up on what they were talking about. It was still perplexing him on how those two even love each other. How can a sociopath love someone or someone as sweet and caring not see the evil in her partner? Or maybe it was jealousy over them having something he had yet to experience.

He shook his head at the questions as he put on a gauntlet to complete his steel clad appearance. He stood up and rotated his stiff shoulder that was still bothering him. The strain was enough to weigh his arm down as if he were already carrying his shield. Without it, he felt naked and exposed on top of being weaponless to add.

“You done now?” Nova inquired shortly. “Take any longer and I would have died of old age.”

Arturius ignored her remark. “Don't forget my weapons and shield.”

The vampire turned on her heels and sauntered over to where his arms were. Her eyes were drawn to an old, geriatric blade that was dull and inept. When her fingers grasped the handle, Nova felt a strange tingling sensation. The sword started to shimmer slightly as if there was an energy swirling around in it. Then the tingling started to become a vibration that evolved into a burning pain. The sword became lambent and then flashed like lightning. The screaming that came from Nova caught the attention of everyone, overshadowing the clatter of the sword as it fell.

“Nova!” Ysolda shouted, rushing to her wife's side. The vampire was on the ground, whimpering like a beaten child in the Honorhall Orphanage. Ysolda stood there in horror as everyone else showed up to see what the commotion was about. She reached down to comfort the frightened vampire. The second Ysolda touched her shoulder, Nova snatched the intrusive hand to stop the suspected attack.

“Nova! You're hurting me!” Ysolda cried out as her wife clenched on her wrist with a death grip.

“I...I can't see!” Nova said in a panic, becoming more hysterical. “I can't see!” The panicked assassin released her frantic hold and embraced her wife instead. She held back the tears like a dam that was about to break.

“What happened?!” Brynjolf demanded, trying to figure out the situation.

“That sword...Did you not see it?!” Her breath was shallow and rapid, gasping that turned into hyperventilating.

Brynjolf shook his head, having a lapse in judgment over her not being able to see. “We didn't see anything. You just started screaming.”

Arturius stood like a statue, despite being surprised at the event that just occurred. Ysolda let go of Nova and marched over to him, brooding with fury. “What did you do to her?!”

“I was standing over here,” he said callously.

“Then what happened?!”

“I know not what happened. What was she doing to cause me to get blamed?”

The blinded vampire yelled, “It was your sword that did this, you mangy cur!”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That's all you have to say for yourself? A monosyllabic tone?!” Her hands covered her face, trying her best not to dig her nails into the eyes that still felt like they were on fire.

“You didn't pick up just any sword,” Arturius exclaimed, seeing the watchful gaze of all the thieves on him. “It was given to me by that sage I mentioned. The Dawnbreaker.”

Nova groaned slightly, still dealing with the shock of being sightless. “And what is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“It's an enchanted sword powered by Meridia, one of the few daedric princes that are not wholly evil. It doesn't just cut; it burns through any dark forces, especially undead. I guess it reacted towards your touch.”

Ysolda spoke up with curiosity. “So is this temporary or...?” Although she was afraid of hearing the answer to the unfinished sentence, it was something that needed to be known.

Arturius gave an emotionally bereft response with a shrug. “The only time a vampire has come in contact with it is on the business end. I don’t know the answer to your question.”

Nova gripped her dagger tight, withdrawing it from its sheathe. Her ears gave enough perspective to know where the mangy cur was. Before anyone expected it, the infuriated vampire launched herself at her target. Brynjolf was knocked over from the force of Nova running into him. He looked up in horror as she was bringing the blade down on the wrong person. Arturius snatched her wrist before the knife could stab Ysolda who was standing between the two. The tip of the blade hovered inches away from the Nord's shoulder.

“Nova!” Ysolda shouted, upset and scared at the course of action she partook. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“He is going to pay for what he did to me!” she shouted, trying to squirm her hand free from the iron grip.

“Except you almost stabbed your wife instead of me,” the hunter stated.

The words struck Nova hard as she realized her rage got the better of her. The crazed ire within her died as remorse took root instead. The Razor dropped from her lifeless hand the same time her knees gave out from under her. Arturius let go while Ysolda caught her wife.

“Just go,” the despondent vampire said as her wife cradled her head in comfort. “You've done enough.”

The members of the Thieves Guild stood silently at all they have witnessed, unsure of what to do. Brynjolf was still on the ground while Arturius kept quiet when he fetched the blade that made everyone nervous. As he held it, the dull blade came to life with energy that everyone could see.

“You have my sympathies, Nova. I hope your sight returns,” Arturius said with some compassion as he encased the Dawnbreaker into its sheathe, hiding the light.

Brynjolf stood up and dusted himself off. He glared at Arturius with his arms folded across his chest. “We don't ever want to see or hear from you again. Got it, lad?”

Arturius' only answer was a scoff from his nose as he sharply exhaled. He grabbed the rest of his gear and made his way towards the door of freedom. The hunter glanced over his shoulder with some tinge of regret to see everyone circled around the two lovers. He pushed open the rickety door and slammed it shut behind him.

“Why didn't we stop him?” Vex said with contempt.

Ysolda responded to her inquiry before Nova could. “Because we made a promise that he would be let go if he gave us what we needed.”

“But look at what he did to her!”

Nova let out a quiet chuckle. “No. Although it was his Dawn-whatever that did this, it wasn't his action that caused it. It was mine.”

“Except...” Brynjolf started to say with skepticism. “He said for you to fetch his weapon. He probably knew what was going to happen the moment you took hold of it!”

“Doesn't matter anymore. Nothing is going to change what happened,” Nova sighed. “Besides, he stopped me from doing something tragic.”

“Which would not have happened in the fir-”

“If I wanted your opinion, I would ask for it. So drop it.”

“So what are you going to do now then, lass?” Brynjolf asked in order to change the subject.

“My life is over now that I am as helpless as a milk drinker,” Nova said with a lifeless tone.

“No, you're not,” Ysolda protested, stroking her wife's silver-white hair in comfort. “Your vision could return.”

“And it might not. Don't get your hopes up too much for me.”

The moment she spoke those words, Ysolda stopped her consoling. She pushed Nova off of her and stood up with tears in her eyes. “You are not allowed to give up! Do you understand me?”

“I am not giving up on life!” Nova said as she balled her hands into fists. “I just can't exactly keep up with my line of work when I am unable to see.”

“If this was done by magical means, it can be reversed then!”

Mallory interjected with his knowledge on the subject. “There is a person who has studied almost all manners of undead. Even curing those who have your disea-I mean, _condition_.” Mallory tried to cover his fumbling the best he could without drawing notice.

“Where?!” Ysolda demanded instantly.

“I have no clue as to where he is now. Best bet would be to check with the college.” Mallory said with a shrug.

The vampire shook her head at his answer. “I am not going across Skyrim on a bet.”

Ysolda rested a hand on Nova's shoulder, making her flinch with the unexpected gesture. “Not by yourself. We are going together.”

“And what happens if they can't help with that or the man we are looking for can't either?”

“And you're willing to give up before you even tried? Quit feeling sorry for yourself and get off your ass, Nova. We're going to Winterhold. Understand?”

“Where do you get off talking to me like that?” Nova said with a growl.

Ysolda snatched her wife's hand and held it in front of her face. “This ring you wear means we are in this together. We pick each other up and support one another. If you give up on yourself then what's to stop you from giving up on us?”

Nova could sense the uneasiness everyone around was having without the use of her eyes. “This conversation would be better in a more private setting.”

“You're right. We will have it on our way to Winterhold,” Ysolda said with determination and conviction.

“Fine,” Nova said, giving in to her wife's demands. “We need to go home first and get some warmer clothes for you. It gets pretty cold up north.”

 


	8. The Journeys of Changed Fates

Arturius walked onto the platform that circled the canal on the lower level of Riften and was glad to be out of the Ratway. The moldy smell was replaced by fresher air, despite the raw sewage floating around in the murky water. The waxing gibbous moons hung above with a violet aurora blanketing the night sky which gave plenty of light to see where he was going.

The wooden stairs creaked under his weight as he made his way up them. The city was sleeping except for the guards walking about aimlessly. Some of them gave a dirty look of suspicion at the elf. There was a chill in the air that hit his bones. Either that or it was a bad feeling.

Arturius reached the front gates and saw a pair of guards blocking his way. “Excuse me, I need to leave.”

“Curfew is in place. No one in or out after dark due to the threat of vampires.”

“So they've been here as well?” Arturius asked with intrigue.

“You can stay at the Bee and Barb if needed,” the guard replied while obviously dodging the question.

“Except, I need to get going. Matter of urgency.”

“You can either wait at the inn or in the dungeon. Your choice, grey skin.”

Arturius' nostrils flared with anger as he desired to punch the man in the face with his steel clad fist. Instead, he walked away before inclination became action. The air was too cold to be staying outside and was without enough septims to stay at the inn.

“ _It's not like I need a room. I can probably wait in the main hall till dawn...Hopefully.”_

As Arturius made his way through the entrance of the Bee and Barb, he was met with uncomfortable silence. The only warm welcome was from the small hearth that did enough to keep the chill at bay. When he sat down next to the fire, the Argonian barmaid slithered her way over to the elf.

“Fifty septims a night for a room,” she hissed.

“I do not require a room, thank you. Just some water?” Arturius requested.

“You can't stay here for free, room or not. You can have your water but leave unless you have coin to spend.”

Before Arturius could object, she already had her back turned to fetch his drink. The solemn hunter stared at the fire, trying to think of what to do. With it being a bitter night that leaves a film of frost on the ground, it would be impossible to stay out. The lack of money will do nothing to prevent that. His only other option would be to sneak out of town at this point.

Before he could ponder any further solutions, a wooden goblet was shoved into his face held by a scaly hand. “Here. Drink it and be on your way.”

“Thanks,” Arturius said with empty feeling. He stared at the water, watching it while he swirled. When he sipped it, he could taste the old spirits from before. Either the wooden goblet was permanently haunted or there was a lack of cleanliness. After finishing the rest of the drink, he returned the cup to the counter in unexpected kindness. He gave thanks before heading back out into the bitter night once again.

When the doors opened, a man ran into him. Brynjolf stood with anger fueling his eyes. “What are you still doing here?” he seethed.

“Not here by choice. Damned curfew is preventing me from taking leave of this place so I have to stay till morning.”

Brynjolf's eyes calmed for a bit while he heard Arturius' side of the story. “Well, let's go have a chat with the guards shall we?” he said with a smile.

“Much appreciated,” the elf thanked as he followed behind the thief.

They kept silent until they reached the gate. “My friend here needs to get going. Open the gates.”

“I'm afraid we can't. With the threat of vampire's looming about, we were told to keep the gates shut at night. No exceptions,” the stoic guard stated with unwavering fortitude.

“This be Black-Briar business,” Brynjolf lied. “So unless you want me to wake up Maven and tell her that a certain guard is preventing work from getting done, I suggest you open the gates and let him pass.”

“Yes, of course!” Even though the gatekeeper's face was hidden by his full faced helmet, Brynjolf and Arturius could sense the fear in his voice when Maven's name was brought up.

“Thanks,” Arturius said as he held out his hand. Brynjolf looked at it with repulsion and shook his head.

“Just finish your job,” the thief said, keeping up with the charade.

“Yes, sir,” Arturius said half heartedly before heading out into the bucolic scenery as the heavy gates shut behind him.

The cloudless night sky gave the moons enough light so neither torch or light magic was needed. Arturius took a deep breath and suddenly realized how great it smelled now that he was out of that putrid town. Arturius looked over his shoulder to the town behind him and gave thanks that he was out of such a depressing place. He was even more thankful he made it out alive due to Ysolda's efforts.

“ _Still do not get what she sees in that killer.”_ The moment he thought of Nova, shivers crawled down his spine. Although he did not directly cause her to go blind, there was still guilt hovering over him. He tried to absolve himself with the justification of preventing future deaths by her hands. Still, the sound of hopelessness when the vampire told him to go left a lasting affect on his conscious.

The sound of his stomach interrupted the thoughts in his mind. The fact that he has not eaten anything several hours except an apple was an issue. The lack of energy in his system prevented his primal nature from emerging.

Arturius unfastened his trusty crossbow from his back and set his shield in place of it. The hunter struggled pulling back the lever, grunting with effort as he locked it in place. He closed his eyes to focus on the smells and sounds around him, trying to locate some prey. The crisp rustling of the leaves from the wind gave the only answer to his ears. The air offered no scents other than plant life and sour stench that drifts from Riften.

“ _Dammit, there has to be something.”_ Arturius kept his hopes up as he trudged through the rural environment. His heavy footsteps dragged as if chained downed. Suddenly, a rustling caught his attention. He halted immediately as pointed his crossbow at the disturbance. From the brush, a dark, grey wolf appeared. With bared fangs, the animal snarled at Arturius.

“Easy, boy,” Arturius said as he lowered his weapon. “Are you here alone or with a pack?”

The cracking of a twig from behind caused him to spin around as two more showed up, giving him the answer. Arturius held his palm out towards them, offering his scent without showing fear. The pair took cautious steps forward, sniffing the outstretched hand. He kept his attention towards the canine behind him, making sure it didn't lunge.

He felt the wet noses on his palm, putting the dark, grey one at ease. Arturius smiled as he scratched behind the ears of the two partners, hearing them pant happily. Finally, the one at his back stepped forward, sniffing his feet in a curious manner. “There we go,” Arturius said gleefully while he petted the scruff of his neck.

Arturius' stomach growled, catching the attention of the trio of wolves. The dark one gave a small commanding bark. As if the couple understood, they ran off into the wilderness, disappearing from sight. Arturius sat on the ground, too weary and needing to rest for a moment. The wolf rested his head on Arturius' lap, relaxing to the soothing petting.

“You know, before I joined the Companions, I got attacked by a wolf when I was younger. Was terrified for a while,” Arturius said with a nostalgic tone while he continue to rub the wolf like he was a house pup. “Glad I can be around you without worry anymore.”

The cold air was kept at bay by the hirsute canine, sheltering Arturius' legs and returned the favor in kind. The wolf, who he assumed was the alpha, perked his ears up at the sound of dried leaves being stepped on. Arturius turned his head to see what it was. The two other wolves came back, one of them with a rabbit in its mouth.

“How kind,” Arturius said with a smile, holding out his hand to receive his gift. The canine dropped it near his feet instead. “Close enough.”

The taste of raw meat and gamey blood relieved the hungry beast inside him. As he tore into the flesh, devouring bits of meat, he shared the organs with the trio. Only the alpha did not partake in the feast and instead, kept a watchful gaze over the pack. Arturius licked all the bloody residue from his fingers and let out a sigh of relief. Although rabbits were prone to disease, his lycanthropy granted immunity to such problems.

“That should sustain me till I get back to the Fort. Thank you, kin.” The elf scratched under the chin of each wolf before they ran off into the night. Arturius took into the opposite direction, heading off the beaten path north of Riften. The mountain range guided the way towards his destination. The barrier of rocks provided a nice cover for the wind that separated him from the desolate wasteland beyond.

Up ahead, the entrance of the cave was within sight. He entered the waterlogged cavern where the muddy terrain enveloped his feet with hunger. The path was normally kept lit with torches leading the way but the initiates had not kept up with them.

“ _Going to have a talk with them later.”_ Arturius raised his free hand that was not carrying his steel wall and focused his energies. His hand started to glow softly, pushing out more light until he drew it into a ball. It hovered in his palm until he released it, making the magic float across the hollowed out mountain path. The shadows twisted and contorted as the ball of light made its way across until it stuck to a far wall. The magical torch hummed gently but the sound was overshadowed by the sucking mud with each step Arturius took.

With one final step, he finally made it out the cavern and shook off as much of the clay thick mud off his boots. On the clear path towards Fort Dawnguard, the natural barrier protected the fort from all sides. The geographical lamination gathered rainwater that perpetually fed the day spring which was the perfect spot for such a grand defense. Even the hunting grounds were well stocked as deer and elk roamed around the green paradise.

As Arturius traveled the path, he saw there was a glowing fire of a camp up ahead. The refugees from recent attacks sought protection under the watchful eye of the vampire hunters. Even though they were vagabonds and peasants, their lives still mattered. Although he fears Isran just wants them out of the way but not so much that they become prey to vampires.

“Kill any blood suckers tonight?” one of the scraggly men asked with hope in his eyes.

“Not this time,” Arturius replied, seeing the light fade in the refugee's eyes.

“Well..Maybe next time, eh?”

“We'll see.” Arturius waved farewell as he marched his way towards the steps of the Fort.

An old orc stood like a statue at the door. “Still alive, I see.”

Arturius gave a small chuckle. “Did you lose a bet on that or something?”

Mogrul scoffed. “Not yet, but that day will come if you keep going off by yourself thinking you can save the world on your own.”

“I just work better alone is all,” the elf countered. “New recruits slow me down and the veterans are too busy or too old to keep up.”

“I can still run paces around you,” Mogrul challenged.

Arturius shook his head at the contest. “Some other time maybe. Isran still up?”

“Like you need to ask. The man barely sleeps. You better bring some good news to him though. He's been in a mood of sorts,” the geriatric orc warned.

“Hmm...” was Arturius' only response as he moved past Mogrul and opened the gate to the fort.

The halls were vastly empty and every step he took echoed through the stone garrison. Arturius passed by the barracks where a group of hunters were sound asleep. The idea of sleeping at the same time the night stalkers are awake made little sense to him. Then again, it would be easier to track down the vampires during the day without worry.

“Lieutenant,” came the sharp and stern voice of the leader himself. He emerged from the top of the balcony that overlooked where Arturius stood. “Still in one piece after your investigation into that vampire that got away?”

“Yes, sir,” the elf replied. “It seems that the creature is part of the Dark Brotherhood; the leader actually.”

Isran almost looked shocked. “Dark Brotherhood and vampires? Sounds like we got our work cut out for us. Glad we didn't have to go and retrieve your corpse.”

Arturius nodded. “Yeah. I am not sure if there are more or if she is just the one.”

“Doesn't matter. They knowingly associate with a vampire, they are just as guilty.” Isran came down the steps to talk to the elf in a more secluded fashion. Arturius filled him in on all the details, from him getting captured to the deal that was made to ensure his life.

“You gave away information about us?!” Isran shouted, his face wrinkled with anger.

“Only why she was being hunted, not anything relevant like future plans or our location. I think my life is worth more than that.”

Isran scratched his beard, contemplating if it was true. “I suppose so. As long as you did not reveal anything that can put any of us in harms way. Right?” he demanded with a glare.

“Correct. There is also another thing. Not sure if it's relevant or not. When the vampire held my sword, it did something to her. Not sure if it's permanent or not but it blinded her.”

“Doesn’t matter. She is still alive...In a manner of speaking.”

“So what now?” Arturius asked, reaching for a cut of horker meat used to keep the trained dogs fed.

“Well, you know about the Vigilants of Stendarr?”

“Yeah,” Arturius replied uncouthly with his mouth full of food.

“They were attacked last night when they were investigating a rumor about vampires in a cave. Their hall got torched and most of them were slaughtered.” The way Isran said it was emotionally detached. “One of them came to me seeking asylum and help with the issue.”

Arturius gulped down a sizable chunk of the horker. “And from what you have told me about your history with, that did not go so well?”

“I gave them warning months before I left that something like this was happening. Attacks happening all around, people being abducted. Instead, they dismissed it and eventually cast me out like common plebe. Now they come seeking my aid?” Isran shook his head at the notion.

“It's not like they deserved what happened to them though.”

“I never said they did. Doesn't mean they couldn't have prevented this from happening in the first place if they had listened.”

Arturius scooted the chair out from under himself. “So what was it that they should have listened to you for?”

“I don't know exactly but with the movement of the vampires, it's like they are searching for something, and now they found it. However, so did the Vigilant of Stendarr, which was why they were attacked.”

“Did your associate tell you where this place was?” Arturius asked with eagerness.

“Yes, and this time, you will _not_ be going off on your own like you always seem to do. When Celann wakes up, you two will go to the cave up near where the Hall once stood.”

“Are you giving us a map or does he know where it's at already?”

“One of the Vigilant named Tolan will lead you there. You three will take off in the morning,” Isran commanded.

“He's one of the survivors?”

Isran nodded at his answer but said nothing else as he stood up to take his leave, ending the conversation in a cold manner. Arturius sat back down and sighed. Morning was still quite a ways away. He propped his feet up on the table, forgetting how filthy they were along with the rest of his armor. Cleaning up his gear should waste enough time in preparation for the morning.

* * *

“Are you almost ready, Ysolda?” Nova asked with vexation.

“Give me a few minutes. I am trying to figure out what to take,” Ysolda shouted from the bedroom.

“Just dress warmly. A fur cloak, some gloves, padded boots. The carriage is not going to wait forever.”

“I know but you spoil me with such lavish clothing, it would be an insult not to wear them.”

Nova let out a sigh of despondence. “Doesn't matter how good you look if you freeze to death.”

“Okay, okay!” Ysolda said before opening up the door. “How do I-”

“Look?” Nova interrupted. “I wish I could tell.”

“Oh gods...I-”

Nova held her hand up. “Shush. No need for apologies. Let's get going.”

Although Nova could not gaze at the beauty of Ysolda, she was wearing a dark red velvet cloak trimmed with the white fur of a snow bear. Despite the velvet not doing much to stay warm, the interior was lined with wool to keep body heat from escaping. The outfit was both fashionable and functional, suiting the needs of both women.

“Is there anything we need besides warm clothing?” Ysolda asked.

“Probably some water and food. It will be quite a long journey. Even though the sun won't rise for a few hours, it might be dark again when we get there,” Nova suggested.

“I take it you have been to Winterhold?” Ysolda inquired while she searched for a canteen.

The blind vampire shook her head. “Dawnstar.”

“Have you seen the, I mean...Do you know where the canteen is?” she asked Nova, correcting herself mid-sentence.

“Outside, hanging above the rain barrel. Ready now?” Nova urged with impatience.

“Quit rushing. Just getting some jerky for the road. Maybe a sweet roll or two.” Ysolda bounded for the kitchen and retrieved the tasty cravings her stomach yearned for. “Now I am ready.”

“I still think this is just a wild goose chase,” Nova sighed.

Ysolda's fingers interlaced with her wife's, holding them tight. “Don't give up. We're in this together.” Sorrow washed over her she looked into the milky white eyes that used to shimmer like blue sapphires.

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there.”

Ysolda took Nova by the arm and guided her to the door. Nova could hear the neigh of the horse, disappointed in the fact that she can no longer ride Shadowmere. She took uneasy steps towards the carriage like a child approaching a caged animal. Ysolda helped her into the carriage and gave her a quick kiss.

“Let me go grab the canteen and we shall be off.” Nova could not tell if she was talking to her or the carriage driver.

The man spoke up, striking a conversation. “So we be headin' off to Winterhold, eh? Place used to be a city till half-a it fell into the sea.”

“I'm sure it was. You know how long it will take to get there?” Nova asked, getting straight to the point.

The driver shrugged. “Not sure. Never taken anyone to Winterhold. Should reach Windhelm by morning light and then to Dawnstar a few hours later.”

“I need to make a stop at Dawnstar anyway,” Nova stated. The rest of the Dark Brotherhood needed to be filled in on what happened. Hopefully she would not lose her position as the Listener, although that was not up to the subordinates, no matter what they say. Still, Nova felt like she was worrying over nothing. Nazir and Babette were loyal no matter what it seemed. It was the rest of the faceless initiates whose’ names she could not remember that stirred worry.

The carriage shifted weight as Ysolda jumped in. “Okay, all set,” she said as she wrapped her arms around Nova's waist, holding her close. Nova smiled softly as she felt Ysolda's head rest on her shoulder. The driver took the reins and gave a wordless shout of a command, prompting the horse to pull the carriage down the bumpy road.

“You should get some rest. You’ve been up since the morning before.” the vampire suggested.

“You're probably right,” she said with a yawn. “I didn't realize how long I have been up.”

“I have some blankets in the compartment if you so need,” the driver offered.

Ysolda reached over and opened the chest, seeing a raggedy and moth eaten burlap sack. “ _No thank you,”_ she thought to herself as she returned to her seat.

“Don't expect me to keep you warm then,” Nova said jestingly.

“What I am wearing should be fine. I love you, sweetie.”

“As I do you, my Day Star.” Nova felt her wife's head on her lap, falling asleep almost instantly. She stroked the soft crimson hair, jubilant over the fragrance of blue mountain flowers that came from the her love. “Sleep well, dear.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions or comments, be sure to leave them. I am quick to reply. 
> 
> I know that when it comes to the Dawnbreaker, it's meant to kill undead. The thing in game though is you can wield it as a vampire and that didn't sit right with me. I wanted to give some in depth immersion if you will, on what would happen if someone like Nova held onto it. I figured it added a nice twist in the plot that I assure, will add to the story even more. 
> 
> The inspiration for Arturius and being able to, more or less, be friendly with wild wolves came from a mod called Moonlight Tales. If you are a werewolf, wolves will leave you alone. Same with bears if you are a werebear as well. 
> 
> Hope you like it so far.


	9. Bloody Genesis

Arturius stared at the snow capped mountains as the sun broke through the rocky horizon. Although the sun has been lighting up the sky, it just now overcame the mountains. Wisps of clouds broke up the rays into separate colors, fanning the sky in a daytime aurora. He led the pace of the two exhausted men behind him, not giving them any rest. Tolan wiped the sweat off his brow before it could freeze. Celann kept his hands near his mouth, trying not to waste any heated breath.

“How much further is it?” Arturius asked. His feet were killing him but gave no indication. The two days of travel didn't make the trip easy on Celann either as he spent the better part of the traveling complaining about anything from the weather to being hungry and tired.

Tolan stopped to catch his breath to survey the surrounding area. “Through the valley passage, past Windhelm,” he said with assurance. “But it's still quite a ways.”

“Mind telling us why we could not go by horse?” Celann moaned, dragging his feet through the ankle deep snow.

“The path is too rough for them to make it to the cave,” Tolan answered. “We would have to abandon them halfway through. I doubt you could afford to replace them.”

“Better than traveling by foot through this wasteland,” Celann muttered.

Arturius shook his head, scoffing at the comment. “Well, unless you want to tame a dragon to fly you everywhere, I suggest you get used to it.”

“You think vampires are bad enough, now we have to worry about them as well,” Celann sighed. “Things were easier when we were younger.”

“Nah,” Tolan interjected. “It's just when you are younger, you didn't know what was going on in the world.”

“I still did not hear of any dragons, vampires, or whatever else at least,” the young Breton explained.

“You were probably too young to experience the hardships of the Great War though, being but a whelp yourself,”

“Were you a part of that conflict, Tolan?” Celann pried.

“It was a _war,_ boy,” the Vigilant corrected sternly.

“I'm going to take that as a yes then,” the Breton said sheepishly.

Arturius kept himself removed from the argument as nothing good could come of it. Instead, he focused on the task ahead, hiking his way through the snowy terrain. “So what is so important about this cave again?” Arturius questioned, hoping to change the conversation.

“Not sure. Just that there was rumor of a bunch of vampires holed up in this cave and when we went to investigate, we were ambushed. Although a lot of us managed to escape, we were traced back to the Hall. It was then that they decided to deal with us. There were vampires all around us, demonic dogs from Oblivion but...” Tolan took a pause and shuddered at the memories that were brought back. “The Vigilants that did die were brought back, only to fight for those blood sucking abominations.”

Arturius and Celann were silent as they kept walking, unable to come up with any words of comfort or ease of tension. Tolan continued his horror story without interruption.

“After what few of us managed to escape, we looked back with heartache to see our once great Hall burning down. We few survivors knew we had to tell Isran of the situation.”

“So why did you cast him out before?” Arturius asked, hoping to get some answers that Isran never opened up with.

“His methods were a bit on the extreme side. It was when a vampire was holding a woman hostage that Isran took it upon himself to correct the situation his way.” Tolan sighed heavily at what he witnessed.

“What way was that?” the elf inquired more.

“That there is no getting in the way of stopping a vampire. He shot an arrow through the woman just to kill the vampire. In some ways, he has become what he hates, showing no mercy for those who get between him and his kill.”

“And yet...You decided to join up with him despite your outlying differences?”

“I want to say the ends justify the means, but still...Desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose. Isran is one of the last people I want to go to, but we have few options now.”

Celann spoke up to attest. “Even though I think he is radical at times, there is a method to his madness. I would rather have him on our side than theirs. He may be as ruthless as the vampires but that is what we need, I think.”

Arturius worried over how far Isran would go to stop the nightstalkers. How many people would he kill to get a vampire? Would he end up slaughtering more than he saved in his objective? Questions like this must have arose in the two followers as well.

“I think we should rest a bit at Windhelm. Catch our breath and recover our energy,” Arturius suggested.

Celann let out a sigh of relief. “That would be great. Tired of sleeping outside plus my feet are killing me. There is an inn that is closer to the Hall. What say you, Tolan?”

“Nah,” he said with a disagreeing tone. “I want to get there before night falls. That way, we can poke around the cave and be safe to retreat while the sun is still out. ”

“There is no point in 'poking' around if we are exhausted when we get there,” Arturius cautioned. “We are not in a huge hurry, right?”

“Never took someone your size for a coward,” Tolan said in a mocking manner.

Arturius stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face his accuser. “Care to repeat that?” he growled.

“Easy, Arturius. I am sure he didn't mean that,” Celann nervously pleaded.

Tolan kept his composure, glaring at Arturius without fear or worry. The kind of stare that says he has encountered worse things in life than an angry elf. Arturius scoffed, brushing the comment over his shoulder. “Let's keep going. No point in fighting amongst ourselves when there is a more serious threat at hand.”

“Agreed,” Tolan accepted. “As what Celann said, the Nightgate Inn is closer and plus, I don't think Windhelm would accommodate someone like you, Arturius.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You've never been to Windhelm I take it?”

Arturius shook his head. “Never had a reason to.”

“Well,” Tolan started. “That is where the leader of the rebellion, Ulfric Stormcloak, is. He doesn't exactly have a positive view on elves. He actually blames all of them for the way things are. A bit of a racist, if I say so myself.”

Arturius' face wrinkled with disgust. “And the people there follow his example then?”

“Correct. They even have a place for elves called 'The Grey Quarter', no offense to you.”

“The Nightgate Inn it is then,” Arturius stated without compromise.

* * *

Ysolda jolted awake from a loud and violent knock of the carriage hitting a dip in the road. The driver apologized as he continued onward through the dozen wasteland between the holds. Ysolda stretched her body that was sore from sleeping on hard wood all morning. She shivered slightly at the bitter cold, feeling the wind pierce her nose.

The Nord pulled her cloak tighter around herself. “What time is it?” she asked groggily.

The driver looked at the shadows beside him, judging the length and angle of the shades. “A few hours till noon, miss.”

“Sleep well?” Nova asked.

“Seems so if I was out for that long.” Ysolda licked her cracked and dry lips but her mouth was too parched to produce any saliva. She reached for the canteen and tilted her head back but not a drop came out. A few thumps on the container made her realize the water had frozen solid.

“What's the matter?” Nova asked her she heard her wife sigh.

“Water froze and I am thirsty,” Ysolda whimpered.

“Don't worry too much, miss. We are within sight of Dawnstar,” the carriage driver enlightened.

Ysolda focused her eyes on the path ahead, squinting to avoid the glare of the sun gleamed ice. She clutched her stomach, feeling it grumble with hunger as well. The jerky would sate her appetite quite well but did not want her mouth to become just as dry as the meat.

Nova could sense Ysolda's uneasiness. She reached over, searching for her wife's hand to comfort her. “Remember how you always told me to have patience?”

“That's because you throw a fit and scrunch your face up, letting out loud sighs,” Ysolda verbally poked back.

Nova's ears could hear the sound of civilization growing louder, from the banging of a hammer on an anvil to wood being chopped up for warmth later on. However, worry washed over Nova as Ysolda and her line of work never crossed over. Ysolda  knew of what Nova did, but not the people she killed, nor her true position as the Listener. Nova clenched her fist at the worry of her Day Star feeling disappointment, or worse, fear of her.

The carriage gradually drew itself to a halt. The driver turned around to face the two ladies. “Gonna switch horses while we're here. In the meantime, feel free to get some food and drink.”

Ysolda bounded off the cart and held out her hand, helping Nova down as well. The vampire missed a step and fell forward into her wife's arms. If Nova could blush, she would have.

“Careful,” Ysolda cautioned with a smile, holding her close. Her cold skin sent a shock of chills. She pulled away instantly. “How are you able to move being so cold like that? You feel like ice.”

“Don't really feel the cold anymore,” Nova said casually.

“What about warmth then?”

Nova shrugged as she answered. “I feel warmth. As long as it's not from the sun, it's fine.”

Ysolda sighed as she looked at her dear love. Although things had been fine between them, there were certain aspects she missed about her living wife. The warmth of her skin, being able to go out in the day together, not having to feed her. The blood drinking still felt uncomfortable and she hoped Nova would find another source for her nourishment. It was getting too much to bear as she felt weak every time, and felt even worse if her wife went too long without blood. There were a lot of hours in the day where she wished she never had turned into what she was now. The worst part about it is that they will not grow old together. Just herself, while her creature of the night remained in stasis.

Ysolda looked around the frozen town, powdered in fresh snowfall. “What's in Dawnstar?” she questioned, trying to her mind distracted.

“This is where I get scared, Ysolda,” Nova confessed, taking her wife by surprise.

Ysolda's voice cracked a bit. “What do you mean by that?” Her mind immediately thought the worst.

“This is the base of operations for my line of work...Where the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary is.”

“Oh,” Ysolda said with relief and confusion. “So why does that scare you?”

“Because last night was the first time you ever saw what I am in this line of work. I know you accept what I am, but I am not sure you understand just how bad it can get at times.” Nova's white eyes started to tear up as she continued. “I feel like there's two parts of me, and I never let those sides of me cross paths.”

“I do understand though!” Ysolda said in a harsh tone of voice. “Yes, I admit when you told me what you did, I was scared and upset. I still married you anyway. Even after you turned yourself into a vampire, I stayed by your side. So you can't push me away from this!”

“Being a vampire was not a matter of choice with me,” Nova shot back with anger. “I had to.”

“Then tell me why you had to! You always kept that a secret. First I found out that the Brotherhood was all killed, then after days of thinking you were dead, you come back and were very nearly so.”

“Almost everyone I cared about died...The person I trusted the most betrayed me and everyone else! It was her hands that caused the deaths of so many of my brothers and sisters! You want to know why I was turned into this? Because I did die from choking on smoke as I tried to escape the inferno.” Nova's face was contorted with pain and anger as she let out all the secrets that she kept guarded.

“The first thing I remember when I woke up was Babette hovering over me, praising the gods I came through. Something did not feel right and I asked her what happened. You know what she told me?” By this time, Nova could no longer keep her voice straight and disciplined. “She said she had to turn me to save me because I would have stayed dead. I was too afraid to come home for days because I did not want you to see the monster that I have become.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't know,” Ysolda said she covered her mouth in horror. Ysolda stood paralyzed at the story that hit her. Her mouth was dry and barely able to speak at the tragedy that has been untold for so long and known by so few. “I never thought you as a monster,” she whispered.

Nova sniffed, trying to regain her composure. “You know, I was half tempted to have a letter delivered stating my death with a large inheritance?”

The worry and sympathy Ysolda was tossed aside as anger took its place. “And if you would have done that and I found out differently, you would have had hell to pay.”

Nova was lucky to be blinded as not to see the fury on her wife’s face. “I am glad I decided to trust you then.” Nova leaned in close and felt for her wife's waist, pulling her close.

Ysolda forced herself away, shaking her head. “You can't act sentimental now after telling me how you were planning on faking your death to me.”

“I wasn't going to!”

“But you were 'half tempted' as you so stated.”

Nova clenched her fists tight, shaking with rage towards herself. “Dammit, Ysolda! This is why I do not tell you a lot of things.”

Ysolda raised her hands, shrugging her shoulders. “How else am I supposed to respond? 'Oh thank you for not lying to me even though you wanted to fake your death and make me mourn over you'? Is that what you want to hear?”

“No! I just...Ugh,” Nova groaned, defeated beyond words.

Ysolda's lip quivered as she spoke. “Why is it that it seems like you are always so ready to give up on me?”

“I've never done such a thing nor will I.”

“You were when you were thinking of telling me you were gone. You wanted to give up after you were robbed of your eyesight. This isn't fair to keep pushing and pulling me.”

Nova's arms crossed her chest, standing defiantly. “And yet, here I am. Remember how you said that we were in this together? Then let's quit arguing over things that cannot be changed. I have to get going to the Sanctuary.”

“Fine,” Ysolda said austerely. “Where is it?”

“It's...umm...Shit.” Nova redundantly closed her eyes to help her concentrate. “We're at the stables. Do you see the path that leads along the water?”

Ysolda's eyes traced the route. “Yes.”

“We follow that road till we reach some museum. Even though the path ends, keep to the bank for a little bit. Follow the coast to the north and keep your eyes on the rocky hills till you see a big, black door. Hard to miss, actually. It's a wonder the locals haven't buried it.”

Ysolda snatched Nova's hand and started to quickly walk almost dragging the vampire behind her. Nova could sense her anger but said nothing, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. The grip loosened slightly as they took more strides, from that of a shackle to more human like.

The cold air did not cool down Ysolda's temperament while she kept hold of her wife as if she were a prisoner being sent to the gallows. “ _How dare she try to think it was a good idea to fake her death to me?! Me of all people! The most selfish, stupid thought she ever had.”_

After a few minutes, Nova could no longer feel the paved road of loose and broken cobblestone. The water sprayed up a cold mist that turned her hair into icicles. Nova kept silent until they stopped abruptly. “We're here?”

“Unless this is the wrong big, black door with a skull on it?” Ysolda said with irritation.

A simple head shake was her reply. Nova reached forward, trying to feel for the door. She touched the rocky archway first before feeling the smooth, polished entrance. A voice rasped that made Ysolda flinch.

“ _What is life's greatest illusion?”_

“Innocence, my Brother.”

“ _Welcome hoooome.”_ The dark and ominous door creaked open without touch, welcoming its leader back.

“If I had to imagine what death sounded like, that would be it,” Ysolda shivered.

Nova turned to face her wife. “Do you want to wait out here or come inside?”

“It's not breaking the rules having a regular person go in?” Ysolda asked with some concern.

“I am the one who decides on that,” she said with authoritarian tone.

Ysolda tugged on her cloak, shivering slightly. “I suppose there is food and something to drink in there?”

“Of course. Babette makes some of the finest cuisine.” Nova's mouth started to water. Babette’s venison stew would put the Gourmet himself to shame.

“Alright then. Guess it's time I get to meet your other 'family,'” Ysolda agreed with trepidation in her voice.

Ysolda made her way in first, guiding her wife down each step carefully. Nova noticed her grip was not as tight before. It was protective and caring instead of forceful, which comforted her somewhat. As they rounded the corner, Ysolda was met with two daggers drawn to her face. The Nord immediately jumped back, falling down and almost taking Nova with her.

A shriek from the annoying voice of Cicero chimed. “Oh Listener! You have returned!” The jester waved his hands and started dancing a jig, completely ignoring the guest. “The Listener is back, the Listener is back!”

Nova reached down and helped her terrified wife up and tried to calm her anxiety. “You'll have to forgive him. He doesn't exactly have the best manners.”

“Cicero is many things but not rude! Unless you think tap dancing on someone's bloody chest is rude. Gee, I certainly hope not. Then again, they were already dead so they could not feel it anyway.”

Ysolda stared with shock and disgust over what she just heard. She leaned in close to Nova's ear and whispered, “ _Is he always like this?”_

“Unfortunately, yes. But he has his uses. Don't worry too much.”

“Oh, and dear Listener, who is this enchantress? A new member? I don't think she would make a good recruit. She looks way too...SCARED!” The joker then lunged playfully at Ysolda with his twin daggers. He cackled manically as Ysolda jumped behind Nova for protection, almost in tears.

“Enough Cicero!” Nova yelled before lowering her voice. “Where is Babette and Nazir? I need to talk to them.”

Cicero ceased his howling gradually and stood confused. “Are you playing a joke? I do love jokes!”

Nova tapped her foot and growled, “Cicero...”

“Don't be such a killjoy. Just be the regular killer that you are, Listener.” Cicero then danced away, mumbling some lyrics under his breath.

“Forget it. Nazir! Babette! I need to speak with the both of you!” Nova yelled, making her voice carry through every room in the underground enterprise.

“Why are you shouting? We're right here,” came the voice of a child.

Ysolda was struck with disarray. “A child? You have a child involved in this?!”

The little girl started to cry as she made her way over to her Ysolda. “I'm just a little girl! The Dark Brotherhood killed my mama and papa, and then they took me captive! Please, please help me!” She grabbed her around the waist and started sniffling in her lap.

“What the hell, Nova?” Ysolda glared at her wife who stood there with a grin on her face.

The child took a step back and smirked. “Rather convincing, don't you think? In truth, I'm no more a little girl than you are. I was once, of course. Three hundred years ago. Vampirism tends to keep one remarkably...fresh.”

Ysolda stared awkwardly. “So are you all vampires then?”

“Just the Listener and I. I am Babette.” The small vampire reached her hand out in greetings.

“It's...umm...good to meet you. I'm Ysolda.” she said nervously as she shook the child sized hand.

“Is she going to be joining us?” she asked Nova with child-like enthusiasm.

She shook her head. “No, she's not. She is here because something happened and it might provide a problem with future business.”

“What sort of problem?” Nazir had a dark but soothing voice when he broke his silence. “Do we need to move again?”

“No,” Nova assured. “It's something worse.” She took a deep breath and sighed heavily. “I've been blinded since last night, which is why I took so long getting back here.”

“That's why you were shouting even though we were right there,” Babette deducted. “So what caused this? I might be able to mix something up to cure you.”

“It was done by magical means, so it has to be fixed in the same way. That’s why we are going to the college. There is rumor of a mage practiced in the necromantic arts. We're hoping he has a solution.”

Nazir interjected. “But you aren’t one to partake in magic, so someone must have done this to you.”

“That has been taken care of,” Nova stated, which was true to an extent. “My only concern right now is trying to fix my vision.”

“And you are hoping the college will have this mage that will help you?” Nazir asked.

Babette had a curious look to her face. “Wait, do you mean Arazel the Conjurer?”

“I don't know the name. Just that he is a mage that dealt with all manners of undead. Do you think it's him?” Nova inquired, hoping to get more information.

“I crossed paths with a mage in Morthal when you sent me to fetch a piece of the dagger you so desperately needed.”

“I was not _desperate_. I just have a refined taste for artifacts,” Nova defended. “Anyway, why do you think it's him?”

“Her, actually,” Babette corrected. “It was close to midnight or so when I snuck in the Jarl's Hall. My small size and the guards' helmets limited their vision, which made it all too easy. After I got the hilt of the Razor and got outside, I ran into a high elf with weird tattoos on her face. At first, I tried to play the sweet and innocent child but she saw through that. She simply asked how long I have been a vampire. I was ready to slash her throat and run away, but as it turns out, that only works when they are not expecting it. Instead, she offered a cure; a chance at a normal life. When I declined, she did not protest or anything. Just said that I know where to find her if I changed my mind.”

“So...Winterhold or Morthal?” Nova pondered. “They are both close by, which is good news. However...”

“They go in opposite directions.” Ysolda said, finishing her wife's sentence.

“Exactly. Honestly, I don't really want to deal with magic users at some snooty college right now. But this mage in Morthal...She might only know how to cure vampirism. The college might have more experience in the healing arts.” Nova tapped her temples, trying to figure out the best course of action to take.

Nazir offered a suggestion in the matter. “Do you want to go one way and have another party go the other?”

Nova shook her head at the idea. “Rather not split up our resources for a personal matter. I'll figure it out after I pray to the Night Mother.”

“The Night Mother?” Ysolda questioned.

“I'll have Babette fill you in on that one. Nazir?” Nova asked as she held out her hand in need of a guide.

“Wait,” Babette said. “Who is she if she is not part of us?”

“That would be my spouse. Anything else?”

Nazir teased his leader slightly as he took her hand. “Did not think The Listener as the settling down type. Or someone who swung that way either.”

“You mean you never told them about us?” Ysolda voiced with disappointment.

The vampire child tried to offer some comfort. “We aren’t exactly a social circle, family jargon notwithstanding. While some of us are more open than others, the closest we really have to share about what is going on is who we killed, how much blood there was, if they begged for mercy...Things like that. Nazir still won't share why he left Hammerfell, so don't take it personal.”

“Would you rather I be back in that desert wasteland and fend for yourselves without me here?”

“Of course we wouldn't,” Nova assured. “We need someone to train the initiates with weaponry. Babette is better skilled in alchemy and Cicero is not exactly teacher material.”

“Right then. Let's go, Listener. See what the dead lady wants.”

Ysolda watched as the Redguard guided Nova to a far chamber, wondering why everyone kept calling her by that name. “So why do you call her the Listener? She seems more like someone who would lead instead of listen.”

“The Night Mother is the one who tells the Listener who performed the Black Sacrament. The Listener then tells the Speaker, Nazir. There hasn't been a Listener for decades until now.”

Ysolda gave the unchild a befuddled look. “Is the Night Mother immortal?”

Babette laughed at the comment and apologized after. “No. She has been dead and will only speak to the Listener.”

“But if there hasn't been a Listener for that long, how did you manage without one?”

“Word of mouth mostly. Rumors travel as much as people do. It was slow and inefficient, making a lot of citizens believe we did not exist anymore. But business has been booming since Nova joined.”

“Ah. I have few more questions, but do you have anything to eat and drink? I haven't had anything since Riften.”

Babette smiled sinfully. “Some of the finest dishes around. The clam chowder is to die for.” The small vampire took Ysolda by the hand and made their way to the dining hall. “You're lucky I just started making this. After a day, it needs to be thrown out so I only make it once in awhile.”

Ysolda stared at the creamy confection as it was poured into a bowl. The smell was entrancing and made her mouth open the floodgates. Before Babette even set the bowl all the way down, the spoon was already dipped in, engulfed in the savory chowder.

“This tastes amazing,” Ysolda complimented, savoring each chunk of clam and vegetables as they bathed her tongue.

“So what other questions do you have?” Babette wondered, uninterested in the praise that she hears most every day about her recipes.

Ysolda slurped down another spoonful of the delightful mixture of flavors and textures that made her forget what was on her mind earlier. “When she and I got into argument over her opening up, she said someone betrayed her, and caused the death and ruin of the Dark Brotherhood...What did she mean by that?”

A sullen look drained the cheery optimism in Babette's eyes. “It was a dark day indeed. Our former leader did not like the idea of having a Listener. She wanted to run things her way, without the old rules from days long since passed. Our mistress set up Nova's failure and death in the hopes of getting rid of her. She thought it would keep herself at the top of the family and return things to the way we had been doing them since the loss of the last Listener. However, the deal she made ended up backfiring on her, at the cost of almost everyone. Even her husband died in vain, trying to defend our home.”

Ysolda stopped eating her soup not even halfway through the story of discontent and sorrow. She stared solemnly at the table, unable to look at the child in the eyes.

“I think the worst thing of it all is those who died never knew why it happened, and yet they sacrificed themselves to defend the one who betrayed us. In the end, she realized her faults and how her jealousy clouded her thinking. She destroyed what she wanted the most, as well as herself.”

“I...I don't...” Ysolda stammered, wishing she had the power to form any words of comfort.

Babette waved her hand in dismissal. “It's quite alright. You don't have to say anything. What's done is done. Besides, our Listener has done wonders for us.” The childlike innocence in her eyes came back to life once again. “She kept us together, even made us stronger than what we were before.”

“Thanks to you,” Ysolda said with both gratification and resentment.

“Yes, I did turn her,” Babette said without regret or second thought. “It probably changed your and her relationship. But it's better than burying her.”

“It still takes some getting used to,” Ysolda said, rubbing her sore neck. She stared at the half consumed bowl and pushed it away. “Thanks for the food.”

* * *

Nova stood in front of the metal coffin and bent down to her knee, bowing her head as well. “I have returned, Night Mother.”

“ _Arise, my champion,”_ a dark whisper slithers into Nova's mind. It is the only voice that gave her shivers. “ _You have done what has been asked of you but the contact has not been informed. Why?”_

Nova stood up, facing the coffin with drained confidence. “Forgive the transgression, Mother. There were...complications.”

“ _What troubles you, child?”_

“I was being hunted down by the Dawnguard. Long story short, I've been blinded and am searching for a way to reverse it,” Nova said succinctly.

“ _You need not your eyes to hear. You are the Listener, not the Seer,”_ the grating voice said without compassion or sympathy.

“Yes, Mother.”

“ _You are fortunate that not many children have prayed while you have been absent.”_ The corpse gave only three names of people that Nova echoed to Nazir so he could write them down.

“Sithis' will be done,” Nova swore, giving a respectful bow.

“ _Now go, my Listener,”_ the Night Mother last said before severing the line of communication, becoming just a regular cadaver once again.

“What did she say about your condition?” Nazir asked as he wrote.

“That I am the Listener, not the Seer,” she said with a sigh.

“Not very compassionate for someone you call Mother,” the Redguard said in a mocking tone.

Nova scoffed and dismissed the comment “I think I am going to take my chances with the mage at Morthal. Ysolda is going to take me there while you inform the rest of our family about the contracts. Understood?”

“Yes, master of the Black Hand. Do you also require your boots to be licked as well?”

“Cut the shit, Nazir,” Nova sighed. “Get enough mockery from Cicero, I don't need more from you.”

“I do enjoy seeing your pouting face,” the Speaker chuckled. “Still don't understand why you keep that clown around. He is not exactly right in the head.”

Nova brushed her silver hair behind her ear and smiled. “Are any of us?”

* * *

The stench of burnt wood and flesh could still be scented from where the Hall of the Vigilants once stood nearly a mile away. Arturius and Celann stared into the abyss, inspecting the cave. Daylight was burning and they only had a few precious hours before night welcomed the creatures out from their safety. Arturius knelt down and examined the ground carefully, seeing too many footprints to count.

Celann turned towards Tolan and pointed at the cave. “So you want us to go in there? It's a damned trap for us.”

Arturius raised himself on his feet, speaking before Tolan had a chance to respond. “If we keep about our wits, we will be fine.” Arturius squinted up at gloomy skies that sprinkled snow down ever so softly. “We still have about two, maybe two and a half hours till the sun sets. Let's just inspect and if we cannot find anything, we will try again in the morning.”

“This is a fool's errand, Arturius and you know it!” Celann cried out. “What are we even hoping to find?”

Tolan grasped the complaining hunter by the collar and brought him up on the tip of his toes. “You listen here boy and you listen good. You're a Dawnguard entrusted by Isran who personally said for you to come along with us. I don't like the bastard, but I trust his judgment when it comes to strong warriors. Don't let him down.” Tolan let go and stormed towards the cave entrance. “Now let's go already.”

Celann stared at Arturius with widened eyes in the hopes the elf would come to his defense. Arturius chuckled in response. “You had that coming. Don't be such a milk drinker and we will be okay,” he said as he followed Tolan into the darkened cave.

Celann stood for a moment before unholstering his weapon. “I am not a milk drinker,” he muttered under his breath.

“Cave sure is damn near pitch black,” Tolan observed, trying to feeling his way along the narrow corridor.

“We need a torch,” Celann suggested but Arturius declined.

“Too bright. We need just enough to see, but not to where it could give us away.”

Tolan disagreed with that idea as well. “We can't do that, because if we only have enough light to see in front of us, we could still be caught off guard. They might already know we are here. We can’t rely on the element of surprise.”

“Then let’s throw caution to the wind then,” Arturius growled. He set down his shield and clasped both his hands together. A small hum could be heard as rays of light started to eminent between his fingers. As if holding water in his hand, he poured the light onto his shield, sprinkling the luminance onto the metal barrier. The shield started to pulsate with energy, glowing with white light that banished almost all forms of shadows where it faced. Arturius picked up his buckler and looked at his two companions. “That bright enough for you two?”

“Yeah,” the both said simultaneously.

Arturius moved the ray of light around and saw it get sucked into the long and dark passageway. “Stay behind me,” Arturius commanded as they walked through in single file. Arturius saw a massive incline that proved difficult to ascend due to the slick ice. The Dunmer had to dig his free hand into the wall to help anchor himself. As he pulled himself up, the sound of rushing water was heard, growing ever louder with each step they took.

“By the Eight,” gasped Celann when he entered the vestibule. A gaping hole in the ceiling provided enough light from the outside to see the massive cavern. A waterfall fell from the opening and onto a bed of rocks, creating a rainbow in the mists.

“Least the waterfall will cover the sounds of our footsteps,” Tolan noted.

Celann scanned the chamber. “See anything out of the ordinary? Just looks like another cave to me.”

Arturius sniffed a few times, detecting a scent all too familiar. “Blood,” he simply said.

Tolan turned his head to face Arturius. “Blood? How can you smell blood?”

“I have a good nose. Come on.” Arturius jumped off the small ledge and started to navigate the twisting and winding path.

Tolan put his hand on Celann's shoulder before he could follow the elf. “How can he smell blood? He's not secretly a vampire, is he?”

The hunter almost fell off his feet with hysteria. He then looked at Tolan, trying to keep a straight face. “Oh, you're serious?”

“What's the hold up?” Arturius shouted, making his voice be heard over the waterfall.

“Tolan here wanted to know if you were a vampire!” Celann yelled back.

“Just get down here! I can barely hear you!” Arturius commanded.

Celann carefully descended the ledge as a child would, propping himself on his stomach and trying to feel for the ground with his toes. Tolan sighed disappointingly. “Bretons...Always so cautious.” The Vigilant hopped off the shelf and landed heavily on his feet. Both Arturius and Tolan stood with amusement, watching the Dawnguard warrior struggle.

“Umm...little help here?” Celann requested.

“Gods, just let go already. There is still ground under you.” Frustration tainted Arturius' voice as he marched over. He grabbed the hunter and lifted him off the ledge with his tree trunk arms and set him down as if he were a child. “How you managed to make it in the Dawnguard is beyond me.”

“Rather not risk breaking my ankle and becoming a burden on you two.”

“If that were to happen, we would just fix you up like we would a horse in the same situation,” Tolan joked. Celann gave the priest a one fingered salute in kind.

“Now, what was it you two were saying?”

“Yes, I have a concern.” The Vigilant's mood darkened as he stared at the elf. “How are you able to smell blood unless you are a vampire?”

“I am not a vampire, I can assure you. We were outside all day. Did you see my skin burn?”

“Then what are you?” The Nord stood affixed on his proclamation.

Arturius stood silent for a moment, not giving an answer to the truth of his nature. “All that matters is stopping whatever is down here.”

“Still did not answer the question!” The vein in Tolan's forehead become discernible as it pulsated.

Celann stood between the two, hoping to diffuse the tension. “Look, we are all in this together.” He then went about face to Tolan, standing up for his fellow brother in arms. “Arturius is one of the Dawnguard; second in command actually. You said so yourself that you trust Isran's judgment so why are you questioning Arturius now?”

“I'll let you in on a little something, boy,” Tolan said with gritted teeth. “The only times I have heard someone say they can smell blood has always been from a vampire.”

“Ever used a canine to track down a scent of someone you are chasing?” Arturius asked. “Same principal.”

Tolan took a few steps back and withdrew the warhammer on his back. “A werewolf!? You've been harboring a werewolf this whole time?!” Whether it was out of fear or anger, the Nord's arms started trembling.

“Let's leave, Celann. If he wants to do this by himself, he can. I want no part of this.”

“But-”

“That's an order,” Arturius dictated with a firm but calm voice.

Celann glanced at Tolan and then back at his superior. He stood in stance with his shoulders and back straight. “Yes, sir.”

“A coward leading a coward,” Tolan mocked. “No wonder the vampires are running rampant. What do they have to fear!?”

Arturius ignored the insult and hoisted Celann up the ledge before climbing up it himself. He looked down at the Vigilant with a glare. “Don't let your bravery get you killed,” he advised before returning on the path towards the entrance once again.

“You two would just be holding me back anyway!” The priest shouted with venom.

Celann kept pace as well as his silence while Arturius lead the way back. The cold wind started to bite through his armor, and was trying to use the giant elf as a barrier the best he could. Arturius took notice of the chattering teeth behind him, trying to resist the same reaction to maintain his image of strength.

“We will be back at the inn soon. If we hurry, we can make sure to get there before nightfall.”

“Y-y-yeah. That sounds g-good,” Celann stammered through his hands as he tried to keep them warm.

Arturius stopped and turned around to face his follower. “Do you feel cold?”

“O-obviously.”

“Good,” the elf said with a nod. “Let me know if you no longer feel cold. That is when it's dangerous.”

“Wouldn't t-that be a-a-a good thing?” he shivered.

“No. That means you are dangerously close to death if you can't feel it anymore.” Arturius held his arms out, palms facing upwards. “Let me see your hands.”

Celann took his hands away from the only source of warmth and held the shaking pair of manus towards the elf. Arturius clasped his palms around the back of the Breton's hands and focused his energy, being careful not to overdo on the magic. Immediately, Celann could feel a soothing warmth that banished the frigid numbness to restore feeling back into his fingers.

“There you go. That should help out,” Arturius said as he let go. “Don't be afraid to ask when you need to warm up.”

“I should probably learn some magic, eh?” Celann smiled as he flexed his fingers without the feel of pins and needles.

Arturius shrugged at his response and turned towards the exit of the narrow passageway. The steep slope that he climbed before greeted him once again. This time, the elf squatted down. He glided on the incline and slid down effortlessly, balancing himself by palming the rock laden wall. Celann followed by example flawlessly and beamed at Arturius for his accomplishment when he reached the bottom. His response was a half smile before helping him up off the icy ground.

As soon as Celann was on his feet, he looked behind him and back at Arturius with worry. “I don't think we should leave Tolan to himself.”

“He made his choice,” Arturius bluntly stated. “We are not responsible for his actions.”

“But are we not responsible if we leave him alone?”

Arturius scratched his goatee, playing with the scruffily hairs as he thought about what Celann said. “Look...although you are correct about us leaving, it was not us who left him. No one told him to stay there by himself.”

“We should at least see if he is alright though.”

Arturius grumbled under his breath when he looked at the icy ramp that has already been scaled both ways. “You could have at least said that before we went down the incline,” Arturius sighed.

An awkward smile formed on Celann's face. “Yeah, but you made it look fun sliding down like that,” he responded.

“Just get back up there before I throw your ass up there myself.” An empty threat Celann assumed, but he couldn't be sure. It was certainly possible for someone Arturius' size to follow through with what he said.

“Yes, sir,” Celann said agreeably, as to not cause any more upset with his superior.

 


	10. First Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Triggers of a sexual nature.

The carriage ride was even bumpier this time around due to the marshlands causing uneven roads. The frigid tundra was replaced by murky but still cold swamplands. The mountains separated the lands into two completely realms. Any non-native of Skyrim would think these areas were on opposite sides of the country based on climate and ecosystem alone.

Nova kept her back to the sun and made sure that she was safe from its tyranny. The silence from Ysolda made her uneasy as she was never one to keep quiet for very long. Added to the fact that her wife was sitting across the carriage instead of next to her made her more uncomfortable. “You've barely spoken since we left,” Nova observed, hoping to break the mute journey.

“Just thinking, I guess,” she dryly responded.

“What about?”

“Nothing much.”

The vague replies made Nova's mouth twitch with vexation. Something was bothering her wife but hated feeling too nosy when she has to pry the words out of her mouth.

“Okay then.” Nova surrendered without further investigation and ended with a sigh of defeat. The only way she knew how to get information was through morbid and painful techniques. The more sensitive approach was completely foreign to her. On top of that, a headache started to ensue from both Ysolda's cold shoulder and the sunlight. Even though she could not see, her eyes still reacted towards being out during the day.

“I am getting tired of the secrets, Nova,” Ysolda grieved. “Between the hole in your armor that you tried to cover up to hiding who I am to you with your 'other' family. How much more is there to find out?”

Nova shrugged in response. “Not sure what more is there. It's not like I remember much before I joined up with them.” They both made sure not to say Dark Brotherhood in fear of how the driver would react.

Ysolda leaned in close, almost enough to make Nova feel her breath. “What do you remember? You never talked about this at all the whole time.”

“You don't want to know. Besides, there is nothing to remember.”

“How does that work? You don't want me to know but nothing to remember?” Ysolda rested her back against the side of the carriage but kept herself fixed on Nova. “What happened before you joined? There's something you have to remember.”

Again, Nova gave a dismissive shrug. “All of five minutes worth. Just me, waking up on the side of a road, wearing rags.”

“That's it?” Ysolda scoffed with disbelief. “What else?”

Nova crossed her arms, shrinking away physically from the confrontation. “How about we talk about this when it's more private?”

“No,” Ysolda firmly expressed.

“I don't remember anything except that!” Nova's nails dug into her arms, almost piercing through the fabric.

“Then how did you get involved with them? That's not something you have forgotten as well.”

“Only if you come here,” Nova countered, patting the vacant space beside her. “I've grown weary of not being able to feel you next to me.”

Ysolda was caught off guard over the change of tone Nova expressed. Still, she got up from her side and reluctantly sat next to her wife. “Now?”

Nova leaned her head close to Ysolda's ear, whispering softly. “I just want to make sure only you can hear me.”

“Nice trap.”

“I don't know much about what happened before I joined the Dark Brotherhood,” Nova kept whispering. “When I said that the first thing I remember is waking up on the side of the road in rags, I meant it.”

“You could not have just walked in and said, 'Hey, I am going to lead you guys now.' Let's be serious.”

“Would have be easier that way,” Nova chuckled.

“ _Stop, thief!” the guard yelled, chasing after the white haired beggar._

_The nameless vagrant sprinted as fast as she could away, dropping some of the vegetables she uprooted from the ground. Her heart was beating wildly in panic as she took in shallow gasps. The midnight moons were full and provided ample light for her to see where she was going._

“ _I said, halt!” the guard repeated himself. He withdrew the bow off his back and aimed recklessly, missing his target by several feet._

_She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, pushing herself to her limits as she tried to escape. She looked over her shoulder and saw the gap between them getting bigger. She smiled as he started to disappear into the distance, amused by his persistence. The entertainment ceased immediately when the nameless one ran head first into a woman. She fell down on the dirt along with all the food she stolen._

“ _Well, who do we have here?” asked a silky voice. “Rags, covered in dirt, and food that is probably stolen. With the way you were running, I bet there is someone chasing you, isn't there?” The woman was wearing skin tight leather that left little to the imagination in terms of showing off every curve. A cowl covered most of her face except for her lips._

“ _I...I,” the panic struck vagrant stammered._

“ _Got a name?” Her voice was sultry and alluring, able to coax a barbarian into sleeping if she sung a lullaby._

_She just shook her head from side to side, keeping her lips tight and her eyes wide. The guard could be heard stomping in his heavy greaves from far away, catching the attention of the both the ladies. When the vagabond turned back to the person she ran into, she was gone in an instant. She scrambled to pick up what little food was there within reach and tried to run away but was snatched by her hair._

“ _You have...nowhere to run now, thief.” The guard was panting from running in all that heavy armor. He yanked her down, making her cry out in pain as she fell to her knees. Her eyes started to water as she shook with fear. “You are not worth arresting,” the guard said as he looked down at the pathetic sight before him._

“ _I...I can go?” she whimpered._

_He grinned as he pulled out his sword, holding the tip of it to her throat. “Maybe if you persuaded me with a deal, I might do so.” He used his free hand and started to undo his belt, grunting with effort as he opened the seam to his crotch. “The moment I feel teeth, you feel my blade. Understood?”_

_The vagrant shook her head in horror, refusing to give into such concupiscence. She tried to scoot away and get back on her feet but his metal glad hand gripped her hair tight, forcing her to face the exposed and halfway erect penis._

“ _Come on. Don't be such a prude. You'll enjoy it, I'll enjoy it, and you get off; assuming I do as well,” he said with a sadistic smile._

_She closed her eyes, still struggling to not give into such a degrading act. His chuckling turned into a fit of hysteria as he pulled her closer to his bulging and pulsating flesh stick. Barely inches away, fear suddenly was replaced with survival. Without a second to waste, the nameless Nord grabbed hold of the erect priapic, both with hand and teeth. The guard didn't get a chance to react as his manhood was ripped viciously off. Blood spewed forth like a scarlet brook. The vagrant tried to wipe away the blood but only ended up smearing it. The guard fell to his knees, his eyes looking desperately into hers, trying to speak but the pain and shock was too much. The vagrant grabbed the sword from his hip and recklessly started stabbing into the guard. Flesh and gore spewed forth and spilled onto the ground until she was too tired to lift her arm up anymore._

“ _That was messy,” the silky voice said with composure, humming softly. The woman's emerald eyes were exposed as they looked into the terrified victim of attempted rape.“Khajiit got your tongue?”_

_The vagrant's mouth quivered, trying to articulate something besides stammering half words. Instead, she attempted to lift the sword, holding it with shaking hands._

“ _You know how to use that?” the dark clothed lady mocked._

“ _Stay away! I'm warning you!” she managed to speak to the mysterious woman for the first time._

“ _Do you have any idea who you are threatening?” the black leather clad woman asked. Her voice wasn't toned with any anger or malice but with amusement._

“ _I don't care!” she shouted, sending spittle and drops of blood flying from her lips._

_The killer stood up and unsheathed her dagger, pulling back her hood for the first time. Her hair was soft and blonde, contrasting her saved victim's untidy and disheveled mess. “So I cannot ask you something?”_

“ _I have nothing to offer you.”_

_Her lips curved into a smile at her remark.“You can start with your name.”_

_The vagrant shrugged. “I wish I knew.”_

“ _Hmm...Interesting. So no memory, no plans short of stealing food, and no way to fend for yourself. If I were to kill you, no one would take notice, would they?”_

_The amnesiac didn't know what scared her more; what she said or how calm the killer was when she said it. It was as if she was surrounded by death at all times so threats of killing someone were actually promises. She tightened the grip on the stolen sword, holding it with apprehension. Her head was screaming to run away but she knew this woman could catch up to her no matter how fast she ran. She wasn't restricted like the dead guard was and could strike from the shadows. The vagrant would never feel safe with this killer on her trail. Hoping to catch the inscrutable stranger off guard, the vagrant charged in with reckless abandon. The killer easily sidestepped out of the way, causing her to fall to the ground._

“ _Strange way to greet someone,” she said while looking at her nails._

_The vagrant scrambled up and launched herself at her assailant again. Instead of dodging out of the way, the trained killer swept her legs from under her attacker with a swift kick. She fell with another heavy thud on the ground. Her breath was calm and quiet, completely opposing the ragged and furious respiration of the nameless one._

“ _Are you done yet?”_

_The dirty vagrant stood up, leaving the sword on the ground. Her face was and hair dripped with sweat, preventing the guard's blood from drying. “You're obviously just playing with me, so why haven't you just finished me already?”_

_Her silky voice gave a smooth response. “You remind me of myself from a time long since passed. I had an uncle who made certain...unwanted advances. So one night when he was asleep, I killed him the same way you did this piece of shit.” She let out a sigh of satisfaction. “It felt good. You have the desire and ambition to make a kill. That much is obvious. But you lack a certain...prowess.” The blonde woman looked up and down her subject, studying her carefully from head to toe. The vagrant stood rigid, not even her eyes betrayed her stillness.”I am inclined to make you an offer, one that will change your whole life if you so desire.”_

_She turned to face her 'savior'. “What sort of offer?”_

“ _The Dark Brotherhood extends an invitation for you.”_

_The vagrant shrugged her shoulders. “I don't know what that is.”_

“ _Your memory, right.” She laughed at her mistake but got back to business. “We are a group of people who specialize in assassinations. You're a little rough around the edges but you would make a welcome addition.”_

“ _And if I turn you down?” She was afraid of what the answer might be but asked regardless._

_She shrugged one side of her shoulders as her voice went cold.“Well, you can go on your merry way of stealing food, getting chased by guards, and dying without anyone knowing or caring who you are...If that is what you prefer.”_

_The night was frigid but it was the words she spoke that sent chills down the vagrant's spine. Cold words of truth. “No...I don't want to die like that.”_

“ _Then welcome to the family...Sister. Although, you do need a name. Can't just be some nameless initiate forever, can you?”_

“ _What's your name then?”_

“ _Oh, forgive me. All this time spent talking and not a single introduction on my end.” She smiled but covered it up with her hand out of instinct. “I am Astrid, head of the family.”_

_A glimmer of twinkling light in the far heavens caught the attention of the two ladies. It produced a blue halo bigger and brighter than any star in the sky, even overshadowing its celestial neighbors._

“ _What is that?” the vagrant asked, squinting into the night sky._

“ _They say when a star dies, it ends up exploding. They call it a nova,” Astrid answered as she returned her gaze to her newest member. The light from the moons helped the Dark Brotherhood leader see the full beauty of her eyes. The same color of the stardust reflected in her eyes. An idea sparked in her mind that made perfect sense. “Nova...a beautiful name, don’t you think?”_

_The vagrant's cheeks blushed a little at her new identity. “I like it.”_

Ysolda held her wife's hand, gripping her fingers tight after she finished the story of her earliest memories. “I can't believe a guard would do something like that.”

Nova nodded in agreement as she felt the fingers bring warmth to her hands. “And I've been taught what to do in case it happened in the future. Among other things.”

“So that light in the sky...That was so long ago. I didn't know you've been with them that whole time.”

“Makes me wonder who I was beforehand. A bard? A trader? A prostitute?”

“Oh shush. You are not a good singer, you don't exactly have the greatest people skills, but the things you can do in bed…Makes me wonder about the last one,” Ysolda teased lightheartedly.

“Cute,” Nova grumbled.

“Besides, as the Khajiit have taught me, 'It's not so much who you are but what you do that matters.”

“Would be nice to know who I was though. I might as well be a child since I don't even have two years of memories of my life.”

“Look at this way,” Ysolda comforted. “You have at least half your memories with me.”

“Would not have it any other way, my Day Star,” Nova said with lifted spirits. She brought her wife's hand to her lips and kissed it softly. “Do you know how close we are to Morthal yet? I hate being outside during the day.”

Ysolda shivered slightly at her wife's cold lips. “I don't know. I've only been between Whiterun and Riften. I probably would still be stuck in Whiterun without you.”

“I still remember the day we first ran into each other.” A smile formed on Nova's mouth as she recalled the memories. “When I discovered that dead orc in the field with all those vials and a letter with your name on it, my curiosity got the better of me. The look in your eyes when I confronted you about what was in those vials. Priceless.”

“But of course! The sap from the Sleeping Tree is not exactly legal. The fact that you helped me get in with the Khajiit was all too generous.”

“Anyone else, I would have asked for double. Figured being altruistic that one time would not kill me. Then you were going on and on about how once you made enough money working with the Khajiit, you were going to buy that run down dive of a tavern. I didn't even pay attention to half of what you said because your eyes and hair stole my focus.”

“Glad to know it was my looks that you paid attention to instead of my ambitions,” Ysolda sighed with disappointment.

“I did pay enough attention to you when you hired me to fetch some more for your cat friends,” Nova deflected.

“Oh shush.” Ysolda playfully shoved her significant other. “I still can't believe you got me that sap from that tree. Thank the Gods that you made it back safely.”

Nova shook her head. “Giants are slow and stupid. They were easy to avoid.”

“To be honest...If I were to know how things would have turned out between you and I, I would have never risked your safety like that.” Ysolda nuzzled close to Nova, taking in her scent and sighed happily.

“What's done is done,” Nova said plainly. “Besides, I do not think I would have won you over if not for helping you out so.”

“You realize you have done more for me that one day than I think anyone else has in my life?”

“And here we come full circle, with you helping me out in kind.” Nova felt for her wife's face and drew her lips in close to Ysolda's. Her wife moaned softly, passing subtle vibrations to Nova in response. The vampire could feel her lover's smile, causing her to react in the same manner.

Ysolda pulled away gently and licked Nova's lips tenderly. “How you manage to be so affectionate yet deadly is a true mystery that I love about you.” She reached over and stroked the smooth, silver hair, playing with a lock between her fingers. “Myfemme fatale,”

“A femme fatale?” Nova inquired, admiring her self made title. “I've been called a lot over the last year, but not that.”

“Such as?” Ysolda asked, intrigued by her other rubrics.

“Besides a sadistic cunt?” Nova smirked.

“Ugh,” Ysolda replied with disgusted. “I hate that word.”

“I cut the bastard's tongue out afterward,” Nova said without any remorse. “Probably ended up proving him right, but still. He learned his lesson.”

“Kind of hard for him to repeat what he said without a tongue.”

“Lessons learned in blood are never forgotten.”

“How come when Arturi-”

“Don't ever mention that cur's name,” Nova sharply demanded causing Ysolda to flinch. “I should have killed him when I had the chance to do so.”

“I am glad you listened to reason rather than vengeance. What would have happened if a pack of angry werewolves came after you? What then?” Ysolda folded her arms in disapproval.

“Then I would have skinned them all and have enough pelts to cover the floors at home.”

Ysolda rolled her eyes at the proclamation and was glad Nova could not see it. The carriage hit another bump in the road, causing the driver to apologize. The living Nord tried to bask in the diminishing rays of the light but the cold was getting more and more noticeable. Her northern blood was doing the best it could to keep the arctic temperature at bay and keep her warm. When Ysolda glanced over at Nova, the vampire seemed to be more at ease with the approaching darkness. Her cheeks that were blushing from sunburn were now getting pale and smooth.

“We're here,” the carriage driver said, catching both of his passengers off guard. Nova could not see where they were going and Ysolda was too busy with her eyes drawn on her spouse to take notice of the cozy town in the swamp lands. The swamp fungal pods scattered about the land gave a distinct smell mildew and spoiled meat. The townsfolk are already used to it to the point of it no longer bothering anyone. Ysolda on the other hand, started to feel nauseous before she stepped off the carriage.

“The smell is terrible here,” Ysolda said nasally as she held her nose to the stench.

“No different than Riften,” Nova simply stated. “But I'd rather have the natural smell of swamp than that of piss and shit floating around the canals.”

“Guess you get used to it after a while,” Ysolda sighed with gloom.

“As you will here, assuming we stay for very long.”

The weight of the carriage lightened as Ysolda stepped onto the ground. She held her hand out to help guide her blind lover on the ground. Nova grimaced as her bare skin had full contact with the setting sun, causing her to curse lightly.

Ysolda looked her creature of the night with worry and concern. Her cheeks went from blushing with slight crimson to being sunken in like an emaciated orphan. The veins in her face were becoming more varicose, pulsating with hunger. The few seconds spent in the sun transformed her from a pale beauty to looking like an addict going through withdrawals.

“I...talked to Babette before we left and she gave me something to help us out.” Ysolda pulled out a vial filled with bright red liquid. “She said this is for the times I cannot support your hunger. I know you never fed off anyone el-”

“Stop,” Nova curtly demanded as she held up her hand. “I know what you are trying to say. Just give me the damn thing.”

Ysolda's lip quivered as the vial was snatched from her hand. “You don't have to be so rude about it.”

“I get it. You don't want me to ever drink your blood again.” She ripped the cork out with her teeth and swallowed the blood reserve in one shot. She wiped her mouth off on her sleeve and threw the phial on the ground without giving thanks. Nova closed her eyes and could feel the thirst waning immediately. Her skin that was stretched thin over her bones causing her veins to bulge, began to swell with 'life'. Once again, she became the stunning vixen with deadly purpose.

Ysolda sighed at her comment, fed up with assuming infinitives. “I didn't say ever. I just said I can't be your _only_ source of nourishment. Otherwise, you could end up starving and miles away from me. Or you end up taking too much and I have to rest the day away until you need more. It's too much for me to take on alone.”

Nova turned to face her lover. She was glad that she was not able to see the saddened look on her face even though it was harder to apologize. “I'm sorry that I was short with you. It was actually a good idea you talked to Babette about this.”

“She actually advised me to be a last resort and not be...umm...” Ysolda took pause before finishing her sentence. “Your cattle.”

Nova exhaled sharply at the terminology. “I never treated you like that...have I?” She pondered back at all the times her wife did share her blood and wondered how heavy a burden it was for her to do such a thing.

“I know you think of it as intimate and I do like it as our personal foreplay. Don't get me wrong about that...but I can't be a feed sack for you.”

“It won't happen again,” Nova worded with bitterness on her tongue.

“Remember about the steak and stew?”

Nova balled up her fist. They would be white knuckle tight but her hands don't have to be clenched for that. “I know. Just going to take some getting used to. I guess those vials will have to tide me over. That and whoever I come across, assuming I get healed.”

Ysolda looked around the marshy landscape. All the buildings were on raised up on stilts, leaving enough room for a child to stand under each building. Probably to keep the swamp waters from flooding their floors every day. The only company among them were the sparse patrol of guards. “Do you remember the mage's name?”

“Azazel or something?”

“Oh! Arazel!” Ysolda corrected.

“Close enough. Where do we start looking?”

“I don't know...Inns and taverns are always the best place to ask. We could try there?”

Nova reached over for Ysolda's hand, interlacing their fingers together. “Lead the way, my Day Star.”

Ysolda tried her best to stay on the path but the ground was malleable, causing the cobblestones to shift slightly with each step. Nova's reflexes and balance didn't even make her take notice as she was naturally attuned to walking uneven terra firma. Ysolda's improper footing caused her to step into the bare muck. She let out a groan of disgust as she could feel the inside of her boots now become waterlogged.

“I hate this place already,” Ysolda complained.

The two ladies made their way closer to Morthal's residences. The path became more concrete, much to Ysolda's satisfaction. They drew first steps on the inn's stairs, feeling them groan slightly under their weight. Nova had enough of her senses to reach for the door herself without assistance and guided her wife in first.

The lodge welcomed its two visitors with warmth from the fire but silence greeted them from the guests. The only one to take notice was an aged female Redguard. Dressed in work clothes, Ysolda assumed she was the owner. All doubt was removed as she asked if they wanted food and drink.

“No,” Nova responded. “We are looking for someone who might reside in this town. A mage of sorts.”

“I might know of a certain magic user but my memory has been a little foggy as of late due to the lack of business...” The owner held out her hand. “If you know what I mean.”

Nova reached for her side and procured a small handful of gold coins as payment for information. The owner held her hand out but Nova dropped them past her open palm making them clatter the floor.

“Are you bl-”

“Blind?” Nova finished her sentence for her as she heard the coins being collected “Yes, I am.” The Redguard women kept silent in embarrassment.

“The mage?” Ysolda asked, trying to get back to the topic at hand.

“Yeah, I know of a mage who hangs around here,” The owner answered as she stood up. “Strange elf lady with marks on her face. Never been seen during the day. Everyone thinks she is a vampire but I think she just keeps to herself.”

Nova wondered if that last part was true. Why would a vampire offer another a cure? All she hoped for was she knew enough to help her out. Not who she was, what race she is, or anything. Just to restore her eyes.

“Guess we arrived just in time,” Ysolda praised as the last bit of light faded from the sun, basking the land outside in twilight.

“Any idea where she would be exactly?”

The owner pointed a finger behind her. “There's some old ritual stones north of here. If not, then try around the outskirts of the hold. She’s a strange one.”

“Let’s get going then,” Nova said with haste towards her wife. “And hope that she can perform this miracle.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we know how Nova ended up in the Dark Brotherhood. They say you gotta prove yourself through murder. I think that qualifies. Heh. 
> 
> And still, we are reaching ever so closer to what we expect to happen in the next chapter...or two. I hope they are not too long. Speaking of chapters,, should they just be numbers or do you think names would add more to it?
> 
> Let me know what you think and be sure to leave a comment or two. Much appreciated.


	11. The Rise and Fall

The wrought iron gate before Arturius and Celann blocked the entrance behind the waterfall where a pair of dead bodies laid. One vampire, one vigilant; the same bodies Arturius smelled. The elf gave a sign to the Divines towards the priest, giving past due last rites.

“Any idea how to get past this?” Celann asked, inspecting for any lever or pull chain.

“It's always been said that brains beat brawn,” Arturius quoted as he flexed his arms. “However, why not use both?”

He gripped the metal near his hips and planted his feet firmly into the stone. The beast of an elf started straining heavily, trying to force the gate open. The tendons in his neck popped out as he gritted his teeth.

“You're not going to be able to raise a gate like that,” Celann discouraged.

“Shut...Up!” Arturius demanded as he felt the metal from his gauntlets pressing into his palms.

The gate started to groan as it gave way to the brute's strength, raising inch by inch. The opening wasn't enough, save for an infant to crawl under. He kept pulling, feeling his legs scream from agony as they were pushed to their limits. The gate kept moving slightly, surrendering to the strength forced against it.

“You have...enough room...yet?” Arturius struggled with each word, almost more than he was with the gate.

“You better not drop it on me,” Celann stated with worry.

“Move your ass!”

Celann quickly dropped to the ground but hesitated for a moment before rolling under the iron barrier. He scrambled away as the gate dropped down heavily. Arturius removed his shaking hands from the iron, feeling the stretched tendons and ligaments withdraw back into proper position.

"There should be a lever...on the other side,” Arturius panted.

Celann scoured the walls of the tunnel until he felt a dangling chain. As he pulled the metal hoop at the end, the gate obeyed and started to move on its own. “I am sure if we looked somewhere, we would have been able to find something on the other side. There was no way Tolan could have made it past here with your...umm...method.”

“Agreed. Too late to change anything about it though,” Arturius grunted as he shuffled through the entrance. His legs and hands were still trying to recuperate from the feat of strength. However, it was the shoulder on his shield arm that gave him the most problem. It started to stiffen up, almost paralyzing his whole limb.

“Don't overdo it or you will drive yourself to an early grave,” Celann advised.

“Just get moving,” the elf said as he strong armed past his companion, rotating his bad shoulder to get it loose again.

The Breton gave his silent obedience, following suit. Up ahead, the natural caverns transformed into a man made underground holding. Altars of fire led the way. The light danced on the smooth walls and paved walkway. Neither of the two have seen anything like this save for a burial chamber of Nordic ancestors.

Up ahead, there was another gate similar to the one that obstructed them. However, this one was already open and led to a balcony. As the two hunters got closer, they heard faint whispering from below. Arturius gave a silent command to sneak quietly to hear the more clearly the distinctive conversation.

“I'll never tell you anything, vampire! My oath to Stendarr is stronger than any suffering you can inflict on me!”

Celann gasped at whose voice he recognized. “Tha-”

Arturius quickly cupped his hand over his partner's mouth and glared for him to shut his mouth. A different voice spoke up, responding to Tolan's remark.

“That is fine, blood sack. Besides, there is no need for you anyway. You don't know anything,” came the cruel voice of a male.

Arturius and Celann crept towards the edge of the balcony and witnessed Tolan being tied up in a position for execution. Before they would react, the vampire slashed his throat with his razor sharp claws. The blood spurted out like a crimson fountain, gurgling and bubbling. The vampire let out a scoff of amusement as the Vigilant fell forward in a pool of his own life force. Celann looked away before his body laid still for the last time. Arturius stared with eyes unblinking, burning with hatred.

“Now, why did you go and do that, Lokil?” asked a female subordinate.

“Because I can,” he replied sharply. “That's why. Besides, he didn't know anything. Would have been a waste of time trying.”

“Ugh...You're so boring. We could have at least had some fun,” the lady blood sucker crooned.

“Enough. There will probably be more that show up. I doubt he came here alone.”

Arturius and Celann traded glances and gave each other a nod in preparation of what is to happen next. Lokil picked up Tolan's body and threw it down into the stagnant and still waters below as a final insult.

Arturius and Celann carefully withdrew their crossbows, prepping them for a strike from the shadows. Arturius cautiously aimed his weapon the same way he did with Nova. He kept his aim truer than the previous time and gave a signal to his partner. Both bolts let loose at the same time and hit their respective marks. Celann hit the woman straight through the heart, killing her before she hit the ground. Arturius had a different motive, only wounding Lokil through the leg to prevent him from escaping.

The vampire howled with fury as he dropped to his knee, fuming with anger. “Fucking slikes!”

Arturius threw his crossbow down and jumped off the ledge with his sword drawn in midair. Celann took a more conservative approach and stalked the winding stairs that led to the same destination.

“What are you creatures planning?!” the elf growled with contempt, holding the edge of his glowing blade to Lokil's throat.

The vampire rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Quick acting like my answer is going to change my fate and get it over with.”

“Not until you answer my questions,” Arturius demanded, his wolfish nature threatening to escape.

Lokil did not flinch as the blade was pressed further against his neck. Instead, he just smiled at the empty threat. “You know, if you are going to threaten me with that, at least cut me a little. Makes it more convincing that you're serious.”

Arturius reached down and grasped his hand on the shaft of the arrow, slowly twisting it. “Why did you kill the Vigilants?”

The blood sucker clenched his jaw but gave no other sign of surrender. “Because it's fun. Besides, they were trespassing.”

Celann approached the two and pointed his crossbow at the captive's chest. “There is more to it than that.”

“What of it? You are all going to die in darkness when we begin our reign over you blood sacks.”

“Then we will kill you all during the day,” Arturius proclaimed, winning the argument in his opinion.

The wounded creature of the night laughed at what he heard. “You would need a sun for it to be day. Once it's gone...there will not be any hiding.”

Celann and Arturius looked at each other with confusion, unsure what he meant by that. “You can't take out the sun,” the Breton said simply.

“Feeble minds with feeble concepts,” Lokil mocked. He looked Arturius dead in the eyes as if he already claimed victory. “You will not be able to stop it.”

Before either of the hunters could get another word in, the creature lunged at Arturius with its blood drenched claws. It only managed to leave a single scratch on his cheek before Celann hit him with deadly precision. The vampire let out a gasp as he stared down at his chest, seeing the projectile sticking out from his ribs. Before he could raise his head back up, it was lopped off with the Dawnbreaker. Dark, thick blood bubbled out as the head rolled off to join Tolan's body in the pond below.

Arturius wiped the residue off on the the twitching body of the vampire, trying to remove the foul liquid on his weapon. “What you think he meant by that?” he questioned as his blade was being slid back into its sheathe.

“No idea. Make it cloudy?”

“Maybe the answer lies further in this place,” Arturius suggested as he pointed a finger towards the twisting pathway that led further into darkness.

“By your command, sir.”

The elf gave an appreciative nod at the formality as he led the way. He glanced over the edge into the abysmal depths where Tolan's body floated. It was too far of a fall to retrieve the body for proper burial. “Be at peace,” Arturius prayed, offering the only solace he could.

Arturius kept his gaze attentive, keeping watch with unblinking focus in case there were any more enemies. He heard the familiar click of a crossbow being loaded from Celann. The fires from the chandeliers and altars seemed almost ritualistic as they gave a haunting feel to the cavern. The path was they were following was a narrow ridge that snaked its way to an ornate yet macabre door. Arturius studied the images carved on it intently, trying to decipher what it meant. There was a woman bowing down to a dark figure. A demon of sorts who had her chained down. Then that same woman was lying in a pool of blood as a possible sacrifice. As Arturius looked at the final panel of the door, he could not make of it. An eye? Looked to be a snake eye but it was smeared and covered with what looked to be fog.

“Any idea what this means?” Celann asked, barely looking over the glyphs.

Arturius scraped his metal fingers along the door. “If I had to guess, someone was made to be a sacrifice. For what though, I don't know.”

“Only one way to find out.” Celann reached over and pulled down the door handle, making a rusty click as it creaked open on its ancient hinges.

Arturius withdrew his favored sword, still slick with sludge from Lokil's body for precautionary measures. What he saw left him speechless. A huge amphitheater with archways circling around the edge of the round platform. A stale breeze welcome its first living guests, leaving a chill down both of their spines.

“What in the world is this place?” Celann asked with an echo asking again.

Arturius kept silent, approaching the archway that loomed near the edge. As the hunter walked past it, he felt a foreboding sense of dread causing the hairs on his neck to stand at attention.

“What's wrong, Arturius?” Celann asked with worry as this was the first time he has even seen hesitation of his superior. He answered back with silence, causing even more fear to arise in himself.

A small structure like a miniature obelisk stood awkwardly by itself, calling for attention. Arturius walked around it, looking at it with curiosity. The top wasn't pointed like traditional standing stones but was flat and smooth. There was some scribbling on the stone but was covered in dust and grime from years of neglect. When Arturius blew away the debris, the carvings became clear.

_My first is in seer but not in oracle_

_My second is in death and also in life_

_My third is in wrong and also in truth_

_My fourth is in rage and also in calm_

_My fifth is in sun and also in night_

_My last is in water and also in land_

Arturius studied it, trying to make sense of the analogies. Celann might has well have been trying to read blindfolded.

“What can be in a seer but not in an oracle? They are the same thing, just different spelling,” Celann said with defeat.

Arturius thought about it and smiled at Celann giving him a giant bear hug. “That's it!”

Celann groaned as he could hear his back popping. “I don't get it!” the confused Breton stated, trying to shrug his way out of Arturius' hold.

The elf apologized as he set him down. “Different spellings, see? Just like you said.” Arturius ran his fingers over the words, reading the first part aloud. “Only the letter 's' in seer is not found in oracle. We just follow that pattern and...”

Celann waited a few seconds for him to finish his sentence but got impatient. “Aaaand?”

Arturius read the riddle over again, ignoring his partner. He matched up the letters in his mind until it formed a word, or rather a name. “Serana?”

A small glimmer of light started to vein around the stone obelisk, slithering its way in spirals till they all connected on the flat surface. The shape of a handprint formed, pulsating gently with shades of purple energy like from the northern lights of Skyrim. Arturius took a step back, unsure of the type of magic that appeared before them. He put a cautious arm in front of Celann, stopping him from getting closer to the stone monument.

“What do you suppose it is?” Celann wondered, awestruck by what stood before him. He gently moved past the blocking arm and did not take any worry of danger from the monolith.

Arturius shook his head with concern, wanting to get away from the cursed stone. “I don't know, but I don't like it.”

Celann seemed entranced by the intricate carvings and the glowing hand print that seemed like the perfect fit for his. “We don't know unless we try.”

“Don't look at me if it something goes wrong,” Arturius warned.

Sweat dripped down both of their faces, uneasy of the outcome. Celann took a deep breath and placed a shaking hand on the altar, matching the shape with each finger. The energies slowly faded away, creating an anticlimactic end.

Celann laughed nervously. “See? Nothing hap-” He was not able to finish his sentence before a spike shot itself through his hand. Celann howled in pain, trying to take his hand away but felt it was like invisible chains held his wrist in place.

Arturius rushed over, trying to help free the trapped appendage. Blood started oozing down into the man made cracks and grooves into the floor, disappearing near the base of the altar. Celann was begging for help but could not remove his hand from the stone. He fell down to his knees as Arturius stood helpless, unsure of what to do. The Dunmer grasped his partner's wrist, trying to yank it free but only caused more suffering. The crying now turned to screaming before Arturius let go.

“I don't know what to do, short of cutting it off!”

“No!” Celann panicked, his face wet with tears and snot.

“I'm sorry...but it's the only way.” Before Arturius could raise his sword from its scabbard, the stone started to click. The barbed point withdrew itself effortlessly from the punctured hand. Celann fell backward, clutching maimed appendage. Arturius looked at it and did his best to suture the wound with his magic.

“Hold still...This will hurt.” His palms started to glow a soft yellow, creating warm waves of energy. “Ready?”

Celann did not say a word but nodded in agreement. He pulled the glove off his free hand with his teeth to bite down on and squinted his eyes shut. Arturius took a deep breath and focused all he could, letting the magic work its wonders on the wounded Breton. Celann gasped at the pain, unable to cry out anymore as his bones and muscles were being stitched back together from the inside. Arturius kept his grip, forcing Celann to submit to the procedure, no matter how much he tried to pull away. After a few moments, Arturius released the death grip that gave life back to Celann’s hand. Celann fell on his back, unconscious from the pain.

“Least your hand is healed,” Arturius praised, thankful that he knew enough of the healing arts to save his fellow hunter from being a cripple.

When Arturius turned around to face the altar, he did not notice it had been replaced with something bigger...Much bigger. The obelisk from before was on top of the sarcophagus that was hidden underneath. Celann's shouting and Arturius’ focus on healing overshadowed the sound of it rising.

Arturius took a step back as the front of the tomb started to slide down, opening up to another surprise. He withdrew his sword and fell into a defensive posture over his partner. The elf waited for the dust to settle, standing with unwavering fortitude and a deathly still glare at what was inside.

“What in Stendarr's name...?”

A Nord woman stood, sleeping upright inside the sarcophagus. She looked completely peaceful. Her hair was dark and laid down flat with two braids that crowned her head. On her back was a large scroll, half her size. Arturius did not move to see what it was as the woman's eyes started to flutter open. Her arms that were crossed over her chest gripped the edge of her burial chamber and her legs appeared like a newborn colt. The mysterious woman collapsed on the ground, shaking with confusion.

“Whe...Where am...” She looked up to the armored stranger before her, rubbing her eyes to focus. When she saw the sword, she froze with fear. Her soft amber eyes started to glow orange in reaction.

“You're a vampire...” Arturius didn't even have to ask. He tightened the grip on his sword and stiffened his shield arm, ready to charge at the vermin.

“Who are you?” Her voice was scared, almost innocent.

“I'm with the Dawnguard on behalf of the Vigilants of Stendarr.”

The woman tilted her head, unfamiliar with the words he used. “I don't know who either of those are.”

“We're in charge of stopping the vampire threat by any means necessary,” Isran's words formed from his mouth with the same tone.

The vampire stood up shakily, trying to regain her balance against the stone tomb that held her however long. “Are you here to kill me then?” She was calm when she said it as her eyes went back to their shade of amber. Either from accepting her death, or having a plan formulated to avoid it.

“We came here to investigate why there was a bunch of vampire activity in this place. When the Vigilants of Stendarr went to see what it was, most of them were killed and their once great hall burned to ashes. That is when they came to us to see what was so important.” Arturius clenched his jaw as his nostrils flared. “I guess we found it.”

“I see,” she let out with a sigh of despair. “Never thought I would be killed by the same person who awoken me.”

“I don't know what you creatures are planning but whatever it is, it's not going to succeed,” Arturius vowed with steel resolve.

“Planning? I don't even know how I got here or who the Dawnguard is or anything.”

Arturius stared at her intently. “How long have you been locked away?”

The lady shrugged her shoulders. “Not sure. Who is Skyrim's High King?”

“Well...”Arturius said with a chuckle. “That's a matter of debate right now.”

The vampire scoffed, shaking her head. “A war of succession? How wonderful to know the world has not gotten boring while I was gone. Who are the contenders?”

The hunter stood poised as ever, unsure of why she was asking such things with obvious answers. Was she buying time? The better question he was asking himself was why he hadn't dispatched of her yet. Instead, Arturius decided to entertain her. “The Empire and Jarl Ulfric have been clashing the last several years.”

“Wait...Empire? What Empire?”

Arturius raised a curious eyebrow at her response. “The...Empire that has been around for...” He didn't have to do any math to figure out how long it's been. “You've been down there for thousands of years?!”

“Seems so,” she answered, completely unfazed with what he asked.

A loud clapping was heard, causing Arturius to turn his focus on the sound. A man's voice echoed throughout the chamber. “Serana...So that's where you have been all this time. It's time to come home.”

The unknown guest appeared from the shadows with two other vampires behind him, both males and frail looking. The one that was speaking was larger but not by much.

“Great,” Serana groaned with disgust. “Did my father send his bootlickers to come fetch me?”

“It's time for a reunion with the family,” he said with a grin, completely ignoring the Dawnguard warrior.

“She's not going anywhere,” Arturius promised, pointing his sword at the intruder.

The vampire did not turn his gaze at Arturius when he replied. “Begone mutt, lest I kill you where you stand.”

“Welcome to try,” he responded with a challenge.

The creature huffed with amusement. “As you wish.” He snapped his fingers, wordlessly sending his cohorts to attack Arturius.

The two lunged at the elf who blocked them off with his shield. They landed on both sides of him, dancing in circles as they tried to split his focus for an opportune time. One of them noticed the knocked out warrior on the ground and licked his lips, causing Arturius to try and scare him away. This made the one behind him take advantage of the distraction and leap on his back, trying to sink his fangs into the tender neck.

Arturius threw his head back, connecting his skull into the creature's nose, shattering it completely. Completely daunted by the unexpected counter move, the vampire swiped his claws wildly, unable to see through watered eyes that were painstakingly shut. Arturius drove the blade through his mouth, cutting into the brain stem. To leave a lasting impression of fear on the other two, he ripped the sword upward, cleaving his head in two. Brain matter and blood poured out from the split skull, making Serana cower back into her stone coffin. The body stood for a few seconds before falling to its knees, completely mutilated and unrecognizable.

Before the rest of the carcase could tumble, the elf launched himself at the other one, leading with his shield. The crazed vampire tried to push back with his own weight, but it was a fruitless effort. His smaller size made him fly like a rag doll thrown by an unruly child. Before he could recuperate, Arturius brought the shield's edge down on the creature's neck with a sickening crunch. He used it like a crude but effective guillotine, bashing the shield a couple of more times to sever the head from the body.

When the bloodied Arturius stood up, he tried to catch his breath. In his peripheral vision, a shimmer of blue and white light near the sarcophagus caught his eye. Serana wove an enchantment of ice, forming the energies into a solid spear. He raised his shield wall as fast as quickly possible but the spike was already in flight towards its target. It was too late to block it with his steel wall so he decided to block it out by closing his eyes to avoid witnessing being impaled through his head. The ice spike hit its mark with a solid strike. When Arturius opened his eyes, he wondered if it melted as a trick. A heavy thud startled him from behind. The lead vampire was the one who was impaled, right through his left eye.

“He was going to kill you,” Serana explained, although was still in shock over Arturius' gruesome display of power.

The hunter did not know what to make of what she said. “You would save me over your own kind?”

“My chances with you are better than what they were planning to do.”

Arturius' mind flashed back to the hieroglyphics on the door he studied. “You are made to be a sacrifice.”

“In a sense, yes.”

Arturius stowed the Dawnbreaker and rested the shield on his back. “So you staying... _alive_ prevents whatever nonsense Lokil was babbling about from happening?”

“You killed Lokil?” Serana chimed with happiness, as if she were thankful for ending his life.

“You must really hate these vampires. Either that or you are waiting for me to lower my guard.”

“Your guard was lowered when Venarus tried to strike at you from behind,” she defended, tossing the hunter's logic out the window. “Besides, you were not able to avoid that spell even if he wasn't the threat. You would have been twice dead if that were my intention.”

Arturius’ reflex was to call her a lying blood sucker, but that would be out of hubris, not because he was correct. Arturius scratched his goatee out of habit, not breaking his focus from Serana. “So what would happen if you ended up becoming this sacrifice?”

“I am not sure the exact details of it all.” She was more relaxed as she spoke. She was no longer using the tomb as shelter but still stayed close to it. “Just that my blood will ‘ _blind the eye of the dragon.’_ ”

“So you fight dragons then?” he asked with a serious tone.

“They've been extinct even before I became a vampire,” she said with hostility. “This isn't some joke for you to make light of.”

“Except...” Arturius started to say. “They're not anymore.”

“You're joking, right?”

“No.”

Serana let out a small chuckle at the news. “The world just got even more interesting.” She looked at the unconscious man, just now noticing him. “Is he...?”

“He's fine,” Arturius dismissed. “Just needs to recover.”

Serana gave a nod of understanding, but still had more questions. “Is he like...you?”

“Yes, he is with the Dawnguard,” Arturius answered but wasn't sure if Serana meant that or him being a werewolf.

The look she gave was an unsatisfied one, but didn't press the issue further. “What are they exactly? Just vampire hunters?”

“Pretty much.” The spartan answers from the elf made conversation difficult, making her feel awkward.

Serana tried one more time. “I never got your name?”

“Oh, forgive me,” he said apologetically. “Arturius Ras’zagal.”

Serana admired the confidence he glowed with as he spoke with formality. He was as if he were announcing the High King. “Arturius...That's not really elvish, is it?”

The Dunmer shrugged at the response he has heard most of his life. “Does it need to be?”

“No,” she said with a charming half smile. “I suppose not.”

After a moment of awkward silence between them, Celann started to come about. He moaned slightly as he rubbed his eyes. “What...what happened?” he managed to groan, his mouth dry and tasting of iron. He took one look at the blood drenched Arturius and panicked. “Gods Arturius, what happened to you?”

“It's not my blood,” he assured.

“You missed all the excitement,” Serana teased lightheartedly.

“Who are...” Celann stopped mid-sentence before reaching for his axe, leaping into action. “Vampire!” he shouted at Arturius, wondering how he did not know the nature of her.

Arturius stepped in front of him with disapproval. “She is not the enemy.”

“She is a vampire!” Celann said with narrow mindedness. “You heard what Isran said!”

“Isran is not here, is he? Sheathe your weapon, Celann.”

“How can...How can you trust her!?” His voice was getting more frantic and his judgment clouded with ire.

“Nice to meet you too,” she said with a sarcastic tongue. She pointed at Venarus with a pale finger. “See that ice spike lodged through his skull? That was from me, when he tried to sneak up behind your elf friend here.”

“I never did give thanks for that.” Arturius rubbed the back of his neck, feeling uneasy over the fact that he let his guard down. Even more so that someone who he hunts was the one who saved him on top of that.

Celann could not believe what he was hearing. Disobeying his superior, he still held onto his axe. “This isn't right, Arturius. She cannot be trusted.”

Arturius puffed up his chest and broadened his shoulders. “That is not up to you, so I suggest you learn your place.”

“I don't want you to end up like Tolan but I will have no choice if I have to leave you here for being on her side. Did she make you her thrall or something?”

Arturius rubbed his face with disappointment and embarrassment over his comments. “No, she didn't. I will admit though...” He lowered his hand and gave a serious look to Serana. “You are in danger and dangerous, both of which are connected. You end up in their clutches and...” He stopped speaking, making Serana and Celann both wonder why he did.

“And?” Serana said, urging him to finish his thoughts.

Arturius stared at the ground, his eyes shifting back and forth. “Blinding the Dragon's eye...Only with a sun, can it be day...” He looked back up after he got done muttering to himself like a madman. “There was a glyph of you dead and a picture of a serpent's eye being obstructed by a dark force. Is the dragon's eye you speak of the sun?”

Serana thought about it for a second, piecing together the fragments of memories from centuries ago. “If we get out of here, I will tell you all that there is to know.”

“See! She is hiding secrets from us!” Celann said with fuming wrath, his face contorted with fury.

Arturius crossed his arms, pondering the bargain. “So your safety for your secrets?”

“No! You can't seriously be considering this!” Celann pleaded.

Serana groaned over each of his comments. “Look, I get you are a hunter of vampires. I am sure a lot of them out there have done horrible things.”

“But you're different?” Celann mocked.

“I do not have a plan to wage war on a global scale. You think the few vampires you killed will change anything? How about a whole army of them? If you don’t heed my warnings, everyone will die for my father's insane plans, and only I know how to stop them from coming to fruition.”

“What is this about your father?” Arturius wondered.

“Who do you think sent all of them here? He found out where I was being hidden and sent his cohorts to retrieve me.”

“Being hidden?” Arturius repeated, taking in how she said that. “So it was someone else who put you there then?”

“Like I said; we get out of this cavern and I will tell you all that I know.”

“And what is to stop us from killing you like Celann has been demanding all this time?”

Serana shrugged, unsure of how to answer. “I...I don't know. I have a feeling you will want to even after I tell you.”

Arturius furrowed his brow with deep thought. The rolled up parchment on her back caught his attention from before but got interrupted from the fight. “Does that giant scroll on your back have anything to do with this?”

“I will answer that as well whe-”

“When we get you out of here...” Arturius took in a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “Fine. And not a word, Celann,” getting the preemptive command in.

Arturius led the way with Serana behind the Dunmer. Not a word was exchanged, but the vampire caught every dirty look Celann gave behind her shoulder. She flashed her orange eyes to taunt back in return. Each time, he gave a more disgusted look. Arturius paid no mind to them, keeping his focus on the rocky path ahead.

When they reached the bodies of the headless Lokil and his subordinate, Serana was slightly amused at them being dispatched like they were. She hoped that they suffered greatly. Celann took notice the look of satisfaction on her face as they passed the bloody mess.

“How twisted are you that you relish in the death of your own kind?”

Serana answered back with cynicism. “And I am sure humans never killed each other, right?”

“We don't get wet seeing oth-”

“Enough!” Arturius' voice boomed, startling the two. “The sooner we get out of here and the less you two bicker, the better.”

“Yes, sir,” Celann worded through gritted teeth.

They all kept silent except their footsteps through the dark cavern and twisting passageways. When they got to the darkened hallway, Arturius lit the way again. Only this time, he kept the ball of luminescence in his hand as if it were a torch.

Serana held her hand in front of her eyes to provide as much shade as possible. When the slope greeted them once again, Arturius took his chances and walked down normally. He gripped the wall with his free hand for balance but one of his feet slipped from under his weight. The ball of light exploded as he crushed it against the wall, sending what looked like fireflies every which direction. Serana ducked behind Celann, avoiding the glowing shards.

“Well, how about that,” a surprised Arturius said, seeing the whole hallway lit up. When he turned to face Celann, he tried not to snicker.

Celann tried to dust off the glowing fragments from off him but just ended getting it stuck on his hands as well. “This better not be permanent.”

“You won't get lost in the dark now, at least,” Serana giggled.

“Oh, shut up, you blood sucking bitch.”

Before Arturius could interject, the vampire shoved the radiating warrior down the incline, causing him to crash into Arturius at the bottom. When Celann ripped his axe out from the harness, the elf intervened immediately.

“Enough!” the Dunmer yelled, grabbing the warrior's wrist. He twisted it just enough to make the weapon fall onto the frozen ground.

“She attacked me!”

“She shoved you, which you should have expected for calling her that.”

“That is it! I am fucking done with this, Arturius. You are not a Dawnguard warrior! You get captured by one of them and now you are siding with her!? You two can do this by yourselves!” He picked up his axe before shoving Arturius to the side to storm out the entrance of the cave. He turned his glowing body around to face his superior one last time. “I am going to report this to Isran and see you cast out. That's not a threat...That is a goddamn promise.”

Arturius stared ahead in silence until Celann was gone. With a clenched fist, he punched the unforgiving wall, making a loud crack echo throughout the chamber. The rock stood stoic but his hand spasmed in agony, knowing full well it was broke.

Serana glided down the icy ramp like a ghost. “I didn't mean for that to happen.”

“Hmph,” Arturius grunted, not wanting to talk about the issue. “So what is it that you know that you are keeping secret?”

“It's...a long story,” she hesitantly explained. “Do you know how vampires came to be?”

The Dawnguard warrior thought about it but only had wild guesses. “A disease?”

“Do you know where werewolves come from?” she hinted.

“Hircine, the daedric prince of the hunt. Most of them call it a blessing, but some say it's a curse.”

Serana nodded as she crossed her arms under her breasts. “Exactly. Vampires came from another daedra, Molag Bal. My parents became one of the first vampires centuries ago. My family blood line is made up of probably the only pure blooded vampires. Everyone else has been infected. We are known as the Children of Coldharbour.”

“So what does all that have to do with what is going on now?”

“The reason my father wanted this was because he did not want his reign to end. He was a forgotten king of a forgotten land. But no matter how much wealth he had, no matter how much power he gained, it would not matter if he died of old age. So that was when he made the pact with Molag Bal.”

Arturius nodded as he listened intently, fascinated with the history not known by many. It's always been told that vampires came from a disease and it spread. Although parts of that are true, there were a lot of answers hidden between the lines of truth.

“As everyone knows though, we all have one weakness.”

“The sun,” Arturius replied to the unasked question.

“And when a man is greedy with power, he'll always wants more. No rivals and especially, no weaknesses.”

“Would he go so far as to have his own daughter die to take out the sun? What kind of father would do that?!” Arturius felt sickened by the notion.

Serana brushed off the thought, accepting of her position. “If it's for the good of many, it matters not the life of one. At least, that is what I have been told.”

“So why did he not do it back then if all he needed was your blood?”

“Because my blood is only part of the puzzle. There is still another piece needed that hasn't been found,” she stated with certainty. “It's an ancient artifact passed down from the Divines. The Bow of Auriel.”

Arturius was confused over the name. “Auriel is not one of Eight Divines though.”

“It's one of Akatosh's names in another tongue. With my blood, it taints the bow and has the power to end the Tyranny of the Sun.”

“How do you know if he has not found it already though?”

“Because I carry the location of it with me.” She pulled the giant and ancient scroll off her back. On it was written a language but was completely foreign. It looked to consist of a single word. “This holds the key to finding the bow.”

“So what's stopping you from reading it?” Arturius bluntly inquired.

Serana's eyes widened with shock. “You don't know what this is, do you? It's an Elder Scroll.”

If Arturius' jaw could have dropped any further, it would have left a crater. “An...Elder Scroll?!”

Serana tossed the sash around her shoulder, putting the scroll behind her. “So you know the stories of those who try to read them then?”

“Just what I have read in some books I came across. Robbed of their sight, sometimes their sanity.”

“Even both,” Serana added on top of that. “So now you see my dilemma?”

“Hmm...” Arturius pondered, resting his chin on his thumb as he rubbed his bottom lip with the index finger. An expression that was cold and grim formed on his face. “In all honesty, the safest thing to do would be to end your life and hide the scroll. You can't be used to end the sun that way.”

Serana kept silent, but her eyes betrayed her impassive facade with fear. She took a step away from the hunter but realized that he stood between her and the exit. The vampire clasped her hands together. A familiar crackling sound started to zap between her hands, conjuring sparks of lightning. “Don't make me do this.”

Arturius stood resilient, unwavering at her magical threat. “Calm down. I am not going to kill you.”

The crackling persisted as the jolts of lightning traveled through her hands. “You just said it would be easier.”

“Except after what you told me, it's not your desire nor intention to follow through with this...this...”

“Prophecy?” Serana guessed, finishing his sentence.

Shook sharply exhaled, scoffing at the word. “Prophecies are not written in stone. The only fate you have is the one you make for yourself.”

Serana didn't believe a word he said. “If that is what you want to believe.”

“That is what I need to believe. Otherwise, why even bother trying if it's going to come true?”

Serana opened her mouth to argue but nothing came out. A feeling of unexpected clarity washed over her as she lowered her hands, dissipating the sorcery. “I...I never thought of it that way. You think there is hope in all this?”

“As long as I draw breath, there will always be hope. We should probably get moving though. I need to get back to Fort Dawnguard and inform them of our situation.”

“Didn't what's-his-name vow for you to be thrown out though?”

Arturius' face gave a twinge of anger over the incident that was still fresh. “Celann doesn’t have the authority to do so. Besides, we need your knowledge on the matter. Can't fight blindly.”

Serana shifted her weight, nervous about what she heard. “If it's okay with you, I would rather not waltz into fort full of people who want to kill me.”

“I won't let anything happen to you,” Arturius vowed, putting his fist over his heart.

“It's not that I don't think you will be able to. I just don't exactly trust you...yet.”

“Aye, I see your point.” Arturius thought about a possible solution. The only place that was relatively safe would be that disgraceful town of thieves and corruption. As much as he did not want revisit that place, the elf decided to go with it. “There is the town of Riften near the fort. You can stay there if need be while I work all this out.”

“Actually, if you don't mind...What is the nearest town from here?”

Arturius closed his eyes, imagining a map in his mind and trying to remember the nearby geographical layout of the land. “If I recall correctly, Dawnstar and Morthal are pretty close. Why?”

“I doubt you want to know the reason...” Serana said as she licked her lips.

“Oh,” he replied with masked revulsion. “You don't end up...killing them, do you?”

“Gods, no. No, not at all. It's not like hunting an animal. It's just a quick drink and without them knowing.”

Arturius let out a sigh of disappointment towards himself. “I can see why Celann wants me removed now. Now I help a vampire feed off of innocent people.”

“You know what? This whole thing was a mistake. Just go about your merry way,” Serana insisted with irritation.

Arturius opened his mouth to apologize but she shoved him out of the way with unexpected strength. “Wait!” he demanded, grabbing her arm.

Serana immediately shrieked, piercing the elf's ears. She fell down on her knees and tried to scamper away after he let go to cover his ears. “Don't you touch me! Don't you _ever_ touch me!” she screamed at him through tear stained eyes. She sat up against the wall of the cavern, huddled up with her knees against her chest.

Arturius stood frozen for a few seconds, wondering what brought this reaction. He kept his distance but sat down on the opposite wall as to not be leering over her with imposing presence. He heard her hyperventilating start to ease with each gasp of breath. Her head was buried in her arms, keeping her face hidden. Arturius then made the realization. The same sobbing and crying that came from the woman at the farm except its source wasn't anger so much as it was shame and humiliation. The depiction of the chained woman bent down before a daedric prince his mind. Not just any demon but Molag Bal, the prince of domination. He knew now and let out a stuttering sigh.

“It wasn't your fault,” Arturius said with comfort.

Serana slowly lifted her head up, her eyes red from sobbing. “What are you talking about?” she said between gasps.

“That image I saw of a woman chained down...You should not have went through that.” He kept his eyes straight ahead, unable to look at the victim of such a degrading act.

Serana's breathing slowed gently as she lowered her knees down from her chest. She wiped away any excess tears that remained before she gathered herself. “The worst part of it though...is how my parents both said it was expected of me. That the pact would be finished if I did this. They didn't care as long as they had their desires fulfilled.” She clutched dug her nails into her palm, leaving crescent blood moons.

Arturius scooted over to the same wall Serana was leaning against. He tore off his gauntlet and held out his hand in front of her. Although reluctant, the traumatized creature of the night slowly reached out and held his hand. He gave a soft squeeze to assuage her of the shame she experienced. His eyes that usually were brooding gave a sympathetic gaze towards Serana.

“I am sorry I grabbed you like that. It won't happen again.”

She sniffled slightly, trying to regain her composure after her break down. “I never really had anyone to talk to about this.” The warmth of his hand relaxed her.

“With parents like that, I would imagine it would be hard.”

“Were you...close with your parents?”

“Yeah, but they died when I was young.” Arturius gulped heavily, trying to swallow his emotions into the pit of his stomach.

“Must have been good parents for how you turned out. Still, that's horrible regardless.”

“I suppose so,” Arturius smiled, feeling her hand return the squeezing comfort in kind.

The light from the magic the Dunmer cast earlier was gradually vanishing. The darkness was overwhelming the fading light with each pulse of energy till it died completely. The two sat in the pitch black cave, consoling each other in silence. Although the bitter cold was starting to creep into Arturius' armor, he ignored it the best he could. The pattern in his breathing gave him away though as Serana let go of his hand to stand up.

“Come on. You'll end up freezing to death if we stay out here.”

“Watch your eyes then,” Arturius suggested. His cold hands were stiff and had difficulty getting the magic to produce the much needed light on his behalf. To no avail, he failed to work the spell.

“I'll lead the way,” she spoke.

Arturius looked up to see the soft hue of orange emanating from the pair of floating eyes. It wasn't enough to light the way, only to see where she was. He felt around for his metal glove before standing up. His back and legs started to tingle from the numbing cold. “Lead the way then,” Arturius grunted.

Although it was pitch black, she could see everything as clear as day. She reached down for his hand, guiding him through the narrow passageway. There was only one way to go but she enjoyed the comfort of his hand and needed any reason to hold it once again.

The small breeze throughout the cave was getting stronger as they neared the entrance. Arturius could feel the moisture from his breath starting to form icicles around his facial hair.

“How I missed the fresh Skyrim air,” Serana said with a deep inhale. The cloudless sky gave no interference with the moons' rays beaming down on the snow. Serana was captivated by the majestic ribbons that wove a tapestry with the northern lights. They shimmered and moved with the stars sitting idly behind the imbues of purples, blues, and greens.

Arturius smiled at her childlike interest in the celestial canvas. “Sure is beautiful, isn't it?”

“Very much so,” she agreed, hypnotized dancing colors.

“Do you...umm...still want to head to Morthal or Dawnstar?” the hunter asked, unsure of her answer.

Serana broke her gaze from the sky, looking at Arturius sheepishly. “Didn't think you wanted to be in my company anymore.”

“I will admit that vampires are not exactly favored in my heart. I've seen so many horrors caused by them that I guess I wrongly put you in the same category.”

“Mhm...Is that your way of saying sorry to me?” Serana gave a half smirk at his attempt to apologize and called him out on it.

“No,” he declined. “That isn't how I say sorry. I do it by actually saying it.” He stepped closer to her, standing right in front of the vampire. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he stared deep into her eyes. “I'm sorry for misjudging you, Serana.”

If Serana could blush, she would have. “You didn't have to get dramatic with me,” she bashfully said, looking away from his deep red eyes.

Arturius took a step back, folding his hands behind his back in resting position ingrained from his time at the Dawnguard. “I wanted to let you know I meant it, is all.”

“What is interesting is how you never uttered a lie to me. Most people aren't truthful over the things they say or give only half truths. It's a rare quality that not very many people have,” she complimented.

Her comment caused him to raise an piqued eyebrow. “How do you figure that?”

“The heart beats differently when people lie. It's a dead giveaway to vampires.”

“That's something I didn't know,” an impressed Arturius said.

“Anyway...Shall we?” Serana asked, wanting to get out of the cold as much as he did.

He gave a nod and walked beside her without the need of being guided. The moons and aurora borealis did enough to provide him vision. The ice and snow crunched under their steps as they headed towards the hold of Morthal.

“How long have you lived here in Skyrim?” the curious vampire wondered.

“Born and raised.”

“A Skyrim native who is an elf? Although you have the accent, I never would have figured that.”

Arturius did not know if he should have taken that as a compliment or not. “The irony is how many Nords I run into saying, 'Skyrim is for the natives!' Guess they mean themselves only.”

She giggled when he did his rallying cry impression. “Not all of us are idiots like that though.”

“There are a few that are nice...” The image of Ysolda's face with her emerald eyes crept into his mind when he said that. “But few and far between from what I have come across.”

“And do I fall under one of those few?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering if his answer would be truthful or not.

Arturius kept his pace, unsure why she would care what he thought of her. “I would say so...Yeah. You haven't done me wrong.”

“I hope you don't either with me as well,” she crooned softly.

Arturius halted suddenly, his eyes widened and wild. “Don't move,” he commanded with a harsh whisper.

The sudden change in his behavior caught her off guard, feeling anxiety build up over his tension. “What is it?”

Arturius sniffed the air, trying to locate the direction of what his nose detected. He turned his head in different directions until he was able to hone in on the source. “Nova...” he muttered through clenched teeth.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do so love leaving cliff hangers. I am actually half tempted to leave this chapter to stew for a week. >.>


	12. Body and Soul

The standing stones the innkeeper mentioned formed what looked to be made for grim rituals. Ysolda looked around in disappointment as there was no one to be found. When Nova heard the dissatisfaction in her wife's sigh, she needn't ask why.

“Guess she isn't here,” a brokenhearted Ysolda said.

An uncaring Nova shrugged her shoulders. “That is why you don't get your hopes up too much in the first place.”

“We'll keep looking,” Ysolda promised. “We can try the outskirts of town?”

“I am tired from traveling.” Nova lied, feigning a yawn. “How about we go back to the inn?”

As much as Ysolda wanted to protest and find this mage, she too has grown weary from the journey. “We'll try again later then.” She caressed her wife's cheek to comfort her depressed state of mind.

Nova appreciated the sentiment but only gave a twitch of a smile in return. “Actually...if you're not too cold, we can stay out here?”

Ysolda was surprised by her sudden change in mind. “Are you sure?”

Nova gave a sincere nod. “Aye. It's actually nice out here. The fungal pods are not close enough to stink and I don't have to see to know people are looking at me.”

The vampire walked cautiously until she felt one of the stones. She leaned her back up against the monolith and slid down the face of it to sit. Ysolda stepped over her wife's legs and leaned down to straddle her lap. “Hi,” Ysolda said flirtatiously.

Nova could hear the beautiful smile in her voice. She raised a hand to brush her ring finger gently around Ysolda's temple, caressing the face she has gone too long without seeing. “Hello there,” Nova replied.

Ysolda nuzzled the shoulder of her lover, feeling Nova's hands wrap around to hold her close. “I love you, my Creature of the Night.”

“As I do you, my Day Star.” The fragrance of the blue mountain flower was still prominent in Ysolda's hair, making Nova take a deep breath through her nose. She ran her fingers up and down her wife's back, tracing along the spine. The feel of Ysolda's heart beat was relaxing as it thumped. “You know why the heart is called a wild creature?”

Ysolda leaned back, staring into her wife's pale white eyes. She moved her head close to where their foreheads touched. “Tell me,” she crooned softly.

“Because we are always trying to tame it but the only way we could...” Nova placed her palm on the left side of her lover's warm chest. “Was to place it in a cage. Otherwise, it would run off to chase its most basic desires and whims.”

Ysolda leaned forward again, holding Nova close to her. “I love that,” she whispered softly as she closed her eyes.

The moment they were sharing was suddenly disturbed when they heard a shuffling nearby. Ysolda quickly got off Nova's lap and pulled her up. The assassin withdrew her Razor, ready to swipe at anything that posed a danger. The heavy footsteps got louder, making the living Nord seek protection from behind the stone henge.

The cervid that spooked the two lovers froze when it saw Nova. Ysolda let out a sigh of relief. “It's just a deer.” When Ysolda broke the silence, the animal sprinted off in the direction it came from. She looked at her wife who still sensing a threat as she continued to hold the dagger. “Is everything okay, sweetie?”

“Shh...” Nova requested while she turned her head slightly in different directions. There were a heartbeat that the vampire was hearing, one that wasn't Ysolda's. “I know you're there. No use in hiding,” she announced to the darkness around them.

“Who are you...” Ysolda was beginning to question but stopped when a hooded figure appeared from the opposite side of the standing stones.

“Why you two be desecrating the Summoning Stones?” the woman hissed.

Ysolda tried to answer but her throat dried up in fear and her tongue felt seized of words. “We were waiting for mage by the name of Arazel,” Nova answered coolly as she stowed her blade. “We were told that she resides here on the outskirts of town. Are you her?”

The hooded woman kept every inch of herself covered save her mouth that had dark tribal tattoos. “You be seeking a cure for your condition, drinker of blood?”

Nova knew this had to be the mage when she asked the question that answered hers. “In a sense, yes.”

Arazel grunted. “And what makes you think I be helping you out with such a request?”

“You freely offered a young girl some months ago, correct?”

“What I offered her was a way out from her affliction,” Arazel barked. “What you be wanting is of a different matter, _correct?_ ”

The mocking tone of her voice irritated Nova enough to make her growl instinctively. “Forget it. Waste of fucking time.” The furious vampire turned and started marching away. “We're leaving. She cannot help me any.”

Before Ysolda could take her wife back, the hooded woman spoke again. “I never said I wouldn't, my dear,” the mage cackled. “All I asked of you was why I should help you out. You answered not.”

Nova stopped dead in her tracks, taking in a deep breath to calm her aggravation. “I have gold.”

The woman spit on the ground in disgust. “Meaningless to me for money cannot buy the beauty of nature. You fail to understand what I am asking. Why do _you_ want my help?”

“Because...” Nova's teeth were clenched tight, causing the muscles to protrude slightly from the side of her jaw. She turned around to face the riddling lady. “I want to see again. I need to see my Ysolda again.”

“Now we be getting somewhere.” Her tone was much more serious this time. “I've cured vampires of their need for blood, restoring life back into their body. But a blind vampire who only wants her eyesight back? That be tricky.”

Ysolda clasped her hands together as a priest would do in worship. “Are you saying it's possible?!”

The mage rose her hand up to quiet Ysolda. “First, how did this happen to you?”

“A sword,” Nova curtly replied.

“Keep sassing me like that, child, and being blind will be the least of your worries,” Arazel threatened.

Nova then lost all forms of temperament. She was able to stare in the face of death and not flinch. But threats and mockery were not on her list of things she would endure. “You _dare_ have the ga-”

“Nova!” Ysolda snapped before grabbing her shoulder to spin her around. “You cannot just push people around and expect them to obey you. We came to her for help!”

“I am not going to put up with her...pompous arrogance!” she snarled.

“Yes...you will,” Ysolda ordered. “I don't care if she calls you a cunt. You don't want to be blind for the rest of your life, do you?”

Nova could tell she was getting the look Ysolda would do when she was upset and did not want to hear any argument. She took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before releasing it, feeling calmer. “I'm sorry, my love.”

“It's not me you have to apologize to.” The redheaded Nord turned Nova around to face the mage once again.

“I'm...sorry for my rude behavior,” Nova said, bowing her head a little for added humility.

Arazel gave only the faintest of nods before she spoke. “What manner of sword was this? Surely, it did not cut your face since your eyes look perfectly intact.” Ysolda wasn't sure how the mage knew that since she kept her eyes covered with the hood.

“It was a daedric artifact...I don't remember what it was called.”

“The Dawnbreaker,” Ysolda filled in.

The mage tilted her head in interest, her mouth giving no sign of emotion. “How quaint that you be touched by the hand of Meridia.”

“ _More like cursed_ ,” Nova muttered under her breath.

“How important is being a creature of the night to you?”

Nova crossed her arms over her chest and planted her feet firmly. “Why does that matter?”

“Because child...You being robbed of your eyesight by Meridia will only exist as long as you be unliving. Her touch affects not mortals.”

“So either be blind or human once again? Those are my options?” Nova's voice started to rise in anger once again but Ysolda's nudge into her ribs brought her back.

“That be what I just said, no? But the choice be up to you and you alone...Choose carefully.”

Ysolda almost smiled at the news. For her wife to be human once again. To feel her warmth instead of a moving corpse. She has grown so used to her being a vampire that she forgot about other pleasures before. Nova wanted her eyesight back more than anything and the price for it was worth it.

“What must we do?” Nova submitted.

“You just have to stand there,” Arazel pointed without need. “Be warned though, this will only work if you truly desire your soul to be placed back into your vessel. The soul be very sensitive and takes not to rejection very kindly.”

“Are...Are you sure you want to do this, Nova?” Ysolda faltered, trying to keep herself strong.

Nova felt for her wife's hand and brought Ysolda in front of her. “I know that things have not been the same since this has happened. I never realized until lately the struggle and pressure you have been under because of me,” the vampire sniffed sadly, trying to prevent her eyes from wetting her cheeks. She raised her hand to brush the red hair that she has missed seeing. She kissed her wife passionately, pulling her close. When they broke their osculation, Nova wiped away the tears from Ysolda's cheek. “I'm ready for this.”

“She cannot be in the circle,” Arazel commanded, ushering Ysolda out from the the ring of monoliths. “Are you prepared for this ordeal?”

Nova's lip quivered slightly but not from doubt or fear. It was hope; something that she long ago gave up on and thought that she would be forever stricken with this handicap. “Yes,” she affirmed without any uncertainty.

Arazel stood silent for a moment, gesturing her hands and arms in wide circles before bringing them together. The strange stones started to glow, humming with strange magic. “I call upon the spirits of Oblivion to bring back the wayward soul of this creature. For where there be death, there be life. Every ending, a new beginning.” She brought her hands up in the air as if trying to reach up to the Divines themselves. The monoliths started to shake with orange lightning, striking and jumping between each one. “Heed my call! End the darkness this creature shelters in! I bring the body that needs the soul. Make the two halves become one again!”

The power from all the stones started to glow brightly, causing Ysolda to cover her eyes. All the energy between the stones shot up over Arazel and Nova, converging into a single point. The assortment of sparks and clouds of magic started to form into a spinning sphere. Although blind, Nova could still sense light but this was something different. It was warm and inviting as if walking through the doors at home. Nova closed her milky white eyes and opened her arms up to accept the gift that hovered above.

The globe shot down to the vampire with blinding speed, crashing into Nova's chest. The vampire doubled over, falling to her knees. She screamed bloody murder till the air in her lungs were exhausted. She collapsed forward, not even able to use her hands to catch the fall.

“Nova!” Ysolda shouted, rushing to her wife's side.“Nova! Say something!” Ysolda begged as she turned her spouse on her back, trying to wake her up.

“The ritual be complete,” Arazel lowered her arms and clasped her hands before bowing her head in silent prayer.

Ysolda did not care. “Is she okay!? She's not waking up!”

“She be fine,” the mage assured. She drew closer to the couple and knelt down next to Ysolda. She reached for her hand and placed it on Nova's chest. “Do you feel that?”

The subtle rhythm of a heart back pushed gently against her palm, giving her the sign of life. “You...You did it.”

Arazel stood up, waving her hand in dismissal. “No. It be all her. She be wanting life restored and so, it was granted. If not, her soul would have rejected her and would never return.”

Before Ysolda could give her gratitude, the now living Nord moaned slightly. “Wha...What happened?” She opened her eyelids and everything was blurry. A mixture of white and red appeared at first before slowly coming into focus. “Ysolda?”

“Yes, I'm right here!” Ysolda cried out. “Are you okay?”

“I...I see you,” Nova moaned weakly, touching the tip of her index to her wife's nose. “I see you.”

“Oh Gods!” Ysolda praised, overly elated of the occasion and tried not to sob tears of joy. A single one fell down to Nova's finger, snaking down to her palm.

“I missed your eyes.”

Ysolda gazed back into Nova's, seeing the crystal blue exuberance return once again. “As I did with yours.” Her hand caressed the check of the former vampire, feeling the warmth no longer being drained from her palm.

Nova turned her head to see the Arazel walking away without a word. “Wait!” she requested, struggling to stand up on her own. “You...I...”

“No need for such pleasantries.” The mage cut off Nova before she could formalized a sentence.

“But it's not fair for you to do such a thing without being repaid,” Nova protested.

“There be only one thing in life that is fair and that is death. You can try to escape it, but he will still find you regardless.”

“Then consider me in your debt till I can figure out how t-”

Again, Arazel interrupted Nova. “You hear not what I said? I knew you were blind but not deaf. How sad of a world you live in that you feel the need to repay every act of kindness. Just accept that there be people who can help altruistically and move on.”

The corner of Nova's mouth twitch, unsure of how to take that. The necromancer's unforgiving stance was irritating and could understand why people did not like her. Not even Ysolda on her worst of moods could get away talking like that to the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. However, if a debt did not have to be paid, that was fine with her. “Have it your way then.”

Ysolda crossed the circle over to where Arazel was standing. “I want to say thanks but it feels strange when I cannot see your face.”

The exposed mouth smiled. “You just did.”

“Please?” Ysolda kindly asked.

The mage raised her hands and slid the hood back, taking Ysolda by surprise. A golden skinned high elf looked back with her yellow eyes with black tribal markings all around her face that extended beyond her mouth. Her light blonde hair was thick with tendrils that were tied back like dead snakes. It was a hairstyle the likes of which the two ladies have never seen before.

“Get enough of a look now or do you want to paint a portrait?”

Ysolda bit her tongue and understood why Nova wanted to trade verbal blows with her. Instead, she bowed her head. “Thank you for helping us. If you do end up needing something, don't be afraid to ask.”

“Yes, because I know where you live.” The sarcasm dripped from her tongue.

“I work in Riften if you change your mind,” Ysolda offered.

Arazel stared hard at Ysolda, studying her posture intensely. “If something does arise, I will...consider it.”

“Thank you again, Arazel.”

“Mhm,” she grunted back before she started to walk away. Before she left the circle, she turned just her head to look at Nova over her shoulder. “Be warned though, cured one...If you go back to how you were, not only will I not be able to cure you again; the touch of Meridia will come back as well.”

Nova nodded with appreciation. “I'll keep that in mind." She wanted to say more but the necromancer was already walking away into the wilderness. “The innkeeper was right,” Nova commented. “She is strange.”

“That she is,” Ysolda agreed. “But strange or not, she did something that we never thought possible till now.”

Nova approached her wife, holding her close to her body till their chests touched. “Ysolda...I need to tell you something.”

“Yes?” she asked, both with worry and anticipation, feeling her chest beat with palpitations.

“I can finally say that I love you with each beat of my heart now,” the silver haired Nord said with a grin going from ear to ear.

Ysolda's hands rested on her partner's hips, appreciating both the sacrifice and commitment Nova went through. “I guess I can no longer call you my creature of the night, huh?”

“I am going to miss being able to see in the dark,” she sighed softly. “Made working at night so much easier.”

“I've been missing your warmth this whole time,” Ysolda seductively suggested when she licked her lips.

“Oh, have you?” Nova crooned, moving her hand between her wife's legs in a teasing manner. “How much have you missed it?”

Ysolda moved away and started to walk back towards the inn, shaking her hips in a slightly exaggerated manner. “You won't know till we are inside.”

Nova stood still for a moment, paralyzed by the radiating beauty that blessed her new life. Her significant other's dedication and perseverance helped cull the hopelessness inside. The former vampire rose a shaking palm over her chest, feeling the source of her life pounding heavily. “ _It's been so long...I forgot how much I missed this feeling.”_

Ysolda turned around, confused over why her silver haired lover wasn't moving. “Are you coming?”

Nova snapped back from her deep thinking. “Of course. I was just lost in thought. That's all,” she assured. She charged after Ysolda playfully, racing her back to the inn, hand in hand.

When they got back to their room, Nova slammed the door shut with eagerness. Her face the very image of lust and desire. “Now...How much have you missed it?”

The red haired maiden sat on the bed, exposing her inner thighs from under the dress. She motioned her finger to Nova, telling her to come over. As her wife began to tear off her own clothes, Ysolda stopped her. “Slower,” she coaxed, wanting to enjoy the show. Nova bit her lip and do as commanded. She playfully took the straps from her shoulders and let them slip off. Only her bust was keeping the fabric on as she swayed her hips, gyrating in circles.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Mmm...Very much so,” she purred.

Nova drew herself closer, making the dress fall down on the ground. She stood before Ysolda, naked and free. The feel of her fingers began to creep up Nova's legs, teasing her, stroking her lust. She brushed her pale hair back as she moaned, feeling her smoldering thighs burn with desire. The gasps of ecstasy were muffled as she bit on her lips. Ysolda's fingers started to work their magic, making Nova's legs twitch.

“Take me...Please.”

Ysolda smiled at her, kissing her stomach as her other hand reached around to pull her closer. “In a bit, sweetie. I want to savor the moment a little longer.” She could feel Nova's hands run through her hair, tugging gently with each motion of her penetrating fingers. Her digits were starting to saturate with the juices that began to flow down.

“Gods...Please...I need more,” Nova pleaded, utterly powerless.

Ysolda smirked as she grabbed the desperate Nord and threw her on her back. “Remember how I said you would be all mine for the taking?” Before Nova could respond, Ysolda dove down to grind her tongue against the quivering folds of her vagina. She felt her legs wrap around her back, pulling her forward.

“Oh...Fuck,” Nova gasped, her hands gripping the sheets as she felt Ysolda's tongue bathe every sensitive area, exploring every crevice.

Ysolda then began to dart her tongue inside the entrance, holding down the bucking hips with her hands. She looked up to see Nova's back fully arched, her head tossed back in the throes of the building orgasm. She could feel her thighs squeeze her head.

“Ysolda...oh, Ysolda!” Nova silently screamed, tossing her head to the side as the impending climax broke free.

The taste of her release was delightful as she licked up each possible drop Nova let loose in hot, promiscuous laps. Ysolda twirled her tongue around her own lips, cleaning them after she broke the kissing from her private parts. “You sure are easy to please,” Ysolda sighed happily, getting the sweet flavor from off her fingers. She got back on her feet and tore the cloak and dress from off her in one fell swoop.

Nova looked up, seeing the perky breasts and wet lips of her lover. Ysolda crawled onto the bed, interlacing their legs together. She scooted closer, their inner thighs scraping against each other until the moisture greeted each other. Nova's hips grinded instinctively against Ysolda's. Their cunts began to flow from the hot, carnal luxuria they drew from each other. Ysolda rolled her hips, spiraling in faster and harder circles.

Nova leaned up, her pale eyes wild with concupiscence. Her nails dug hard into the paillasse. She could feel her heart drumming hard against her chest, rolling her hips with the same tantalizing rhythm as her lover, synchronized in each others deepening passion. The sweat built up on Nova for the first time since the revitalizing ritual as well as her second orgasm of the night.

Ysolda could sense the imminent climax and pushed herself harder, wanting to join her partner in the same experience. “No coming till I do!” Ysolda ordered, making Nova use all her willpower to fulfill her command.

“Gods! I can't hold it...for much longer!” she panted between gasps. Nova reached over and used her fingers to stimulate her wife even further so she can reach the pinnacle of her delectation.

Ysolda then let out short gasps, her legs and lips trembling from the intensity of their shared climax. Nova collapsed her head on the pillow while Ysolda's hung over the edge of the bed. Both were out of breath, sucking the sex filled air into their lungs.

“Dibella can learn...some things from you,” Nova complimented.

“Are you calling me...a goddess?” Ysolda laughed, too tired to move.

“In more ways...than one.” She moved her hand to her wife's feet, rubbing them gently. The calloused skin was rough and thick from being on her feet all day at the markets and occasional travel with the Khajiits. She penetrated deep through, making the moans rival the ones Ysolda lets out during sex.

Ysolda leaned up, separating their legs to cuddle close behind her lover. Her fingertips traced along Nova's hips and shoulders, making her skin crawl with horripilation. “That was another thing I missed...You never got goose pimples when you were a vampire.”

When Nova turned over to face her partner, there was a solemn expression in her eyes. “I didn't know how badly you hated me being one.”

“I didn't _hate_ it, dear. I just...I noticed a lot of things that were different before,” she tried to reassure, kissing the exposed neck as distraction.

Nova tilted her neck to give her more access. “I guess change doesn't always mean it's bad. Honestly though...If I would have known about your true feelings with me being a vampire and the cure, I would have done it the same day.” She stroked the crimson tufts of hair, petting the lovely creature that laid in front of her.

Ysolda removed her lips from the soft and warm tissue. She gave it a nip, leaving a love mark on the flawless skin. “Being with a vampire was fun though. It did make me wonder what being one was like.”

“It's not all sunshine and butterflies,” she joked, making Ysolda roll her eyes at the pun. “Between the thirst and the sun, it made for some...difficulties. As I said before, it was for survival.” Nova's mood went bleak when she finished.

“It's all over though, right?” Ysolda put her hand under the crestfallen Nord.

Nova quickly raised herself up, “What's all over?” she asked creasing her eyebrows from perplexity. She worried about what Ysolda was going to follow up with.

“This vampire business. Right?”

“Of course,” Nova stated, banishing the doubt from Ysolda's mind. She relaxed her back on the mattress again, putting her thoughts at ease over her position with the Dark Brotherhood. “I don't want to go blind again from that damned daedra.”

“Good,” Ysolda said with a yawn, wrapping her arms around her wife. The feeling of their hearts resonating off each other was a lost feeling she never knew she missed.

Nova looked down at her sleepy lover who had her emerald eyes closed already. She stroked her cheek gently, helping Ysolda rest sooner. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too,” the redhead replied back sleepily, nestling more into the bed that was now being warmed by two bodies.

Before long, Ysolda was visiting the land of dreams. Nova was wide awake, not even feeling the least bit tired. Even though she was human, the vampire's sleep schedule was still dominant. After carefully sliding out of the bed without disturbing the sleeping beauty, Nova started to get dressed. The impractical clothing she burrowed from Ysolda was starting to get dirty. From being worn all day to traveling from Riften and then being tossed on the floor has not helped any. Nova grabbed the same cloak her wife wore, inhaling the scent deeply. “I'll be back soon, love.”

When she left the room, she was greeted by a different Redguard; a male this time. “ _Probably siblings,”_ she guessed. “Do me a favor and have a message saying I will return in the morning.” Nova palmed the man a few coins before leaving the inn. The chill in the air took Nova by surprise. It's been so long since the cold had any affect on her. Pretending to be a dead drifter in the snow with barely any clothes on didn't even faze her as she waited for her unsuspecting prey. Now the warmth of her body was slowly being sapped. The cloak that she carried now had to be worn, draping it around her shoulders. She tightened the drawstring and threw the hood on for good measure. The bitter cold felt more like a draft now as she made her way back to Dawnstar to inform the family of her success.

The journey ahead proved to be more difficult than imagined. When she passed through the valley that separated the swamplands from the tundra, the air became deathly frigid. It was getting harder for Nova to breathe with each step she took through the frozen wasteland. She kept trudging forward, knowing she was over halfway there. However, the first half was an easy hike compared to the nightmare that laid before her now. To make matters worse, the wind started to pick up, blanketing Nova with frost. She started to shiver violently, using all the wasted heat from her breath on her trembling hands. The winter wind blew the hood back, exposing her head to the loose snow that showered her face. Nova pulled the hood back on, struggling to stay warm. “ _What I would do for a dragon to breathe its fire right about now.”_

She looked around for some type of shelter. A cave, an abandoned tower; even an overgrown tree or a hollow log would suffice. Her eyesight started to blur, unable to keep focus on what she was doing. Nova no longer shivered but her legs started to tremble before they gave out on her. The last thing she remembered was the approaching ground greeting her face as she collapsed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say, I did love making Arazel. So snarky but powerful. I didn't like the original mage in the game all that much and wanted someone a little more of my taste. Besides, her being a high elf adds more to her attitude. 
> 
> If you want pics of my characters, here are some links:
> 
> http://imgur.com/5H9ve3L  
> http://imgur.com/RDV6Wwc  
> http://imgur.com/I27BWz8


	13. The Winter of Discontent

Serana hovered over Arturius' shoulder. “Nova?”

The elf stood up, looking around the tundra for any other clues of her. With how dark it was, the only help was from the celestial lights that shimmered like ribbons across the sky.  

“Hello?” the vampire asked, trying to get him to answer her.

Arturius stopped looking into the wilderness to face Serana. “She is a very dangerous woman. Almost got me killed.” The way he said it was more of a growl than it was anything else. He stormed down the snow washed path, trailing the scent as it grew stronger.

“Is...she like me?” Serana worried what the answer was.

“Correct. However, her and I made a...” Arturius took a deep sigh of regret. “A deal.”

“What sort of deal?”

“When I was tracking her, I made the mistake of letting my guard down and ended up in the clutches of her and her associates. She wanted to know why she wanted being hunted and in exchange, my life and freedom.”

Serana struggled to keep up with the pace he was setting forth. “Is that what Celann meant by you getting captured?”

Arturius nodded angrily at the question. “And she probably has been tracking me if she is here now.”

“Are you sure?” Serana was completely unfamiliar with the situation except for the small anecdote that did not give any revelation as to who Nova truly is.

“What in the world?” Arturius ask aloud, stopping before the still body that laid on the ground.

When Serana finally caught up, she was surprised as well. “Is...this her?”

“Yes,” he answered with hatred, resting his palm on the hilt of his sword. The cold has done a great job keeping the bruised bones in his hand from throbbing with pain.

Serana was confused over the previous statements. “I thought you said she was a vampire?”

Arturius paused for a second, unsure of what she meant by that. “Are...Are you saying she isn't?”

“Considering her heart is beating...barely.”

Arturius knelt down, turning over the assassin. When he felt her neck, there was but a faint pulse of life. He brushed off the dirt and snow from off her face, seeing the late stages of hypothermia set in based on the how blue her lips were. How was such a thing possible?

The vampire looked over the pale haired woman. “Are you going to leave her there?”

“As much as I want to, no one deserves to die in this manner.” Arturius scooped her up in his arms, shaking as much of the snow off her before it melted into her clothes. “If she is human, she won't last long out here, Nord or not. Dawnstar is the closest. We might make it if we hurry.”

He looked down at Nova who was laying still, not even shivering. He adjusted her to cradle her in one arm. He took his good hand and placed it on her chest, trying to get his innate fire magic to warm her core up. Her heart beat was weak and he was barely able to feel it. However, it was definitely there. Arturius kept focusing his magics but the running added to the difficulty. He kept pushing the taxing magics throughout his body into his hand, finally feeling the warmth enter into his extremity after strained effort.

“What are you trying to do?” Serana asked.

“Trying to keep her chest warm,” he grunted. “Can you help any?”

The dark haired vampire shook her head. “My kind doesn't mix well with fire. I tried to once and charred my skin for a week. Never again.”

“We better hurry,” the elf urged, taking off down the path.

“Wait!” Serana shouted before bounding off after him. “Why are you doing this if she tried to kill you?”

“I...tried to kill her first, actually,” he sheepishly stated, trying to keep Nova stable as much as possible when he sprinted. “Then she almost tried to do the same to me.”

“That doesn't make sense of why you are doing this now.”

Arturius' glare was colder than the weather. “I have yet to come across someone who didn't deserve some form of mercy.”

“No matter who?” she challenged. “Sure showed those two in the cave mercy when you lobotomized one and decapitated the other.”

“Killing someone in a fight is not the same as leaving a helpless person to die. If they can be saved afterward, I will do so if possible.”

“You are quite strange, Arturius,” Serana said with intrigue. “No matter how cold the world is, you don’t seem to let it turn you heartless.”

“Strength in the heart and soul is more powerful than how big your muscles are,” he replied back, trying to keep his pace up. The energy from the running and magic were quickly fatiguing him though.

Serana took notice of his uncontrolled breathing. “You can't keep pushing yourself like that or else you will end up like how she did,” she cautioned. “I won't be able to help if you end up dropping from exhaustion.”

“I'm fine,” he snapped, feeling insulted from her advice. “Dawnstar is just ahead. We can make it.”

“Stubborn oaf,” she muttered, throwing her hands up in defeat.

The fire from all the torches gave sign of how far away the town is. It was still a mile away. The heart in Nova's chest was beating stronger but was still dangerously faint. The magic from Arturius' hand was fading along with his stamina. His chest was heaving as he kept pushing forward. Nova was still unconscious the whole time, her body like a ragdoll in his cradling arm. One of the guards that was doing night patrol quickly took notice of the two running towards him.

“What's going on?” he demanded, wondering what the hurry was.

Arturius did not even slow down. “This woman was lost out in the wild. She's going to die if we don't get her some place warm!” he yelled back before the two ran past the night watchman.

“Okay then,” he muttered to himself before continuing his circles around the town.

Serana ran ahead of the exhausted elf, opening the door for him before he even got a foot on the first step. He burst through the frame of the entrance, trying to catch his breath. “She needs...help,” Arturius gasped.

A blonde bearded man jumped over the counter that he was tending. “What happened?” he asked with worry, staring at the woman in the elf's arms. He brushed the damp hair out of her face, feeling her forehead.

“We found her on the road, passed out a ways from here,” Serana responded, not letting the Dunmer waste the last of his energy on conversation.

“She needs warmth immediately,” the innkeeper said, stating the obvious. “Here, this room has a hearth,” the man pointed to one of the open doors to the vacant room.

Arturius hustled through as fast as he could, laying her down near the smoldering coals that crackled softly in the fireplace. He grabbed some of the stacked wood, tossing a few logs in to summon forth the flames he could not create magically. Nova laid without movement still, but the blue from her lips were waning as the coals combusted with a roaring fire.

“Serana, grab some blankets from off the bed.” As she went to retrieve the sheets, Arturius checked Nova's pulse again. It showed signs of stability has it was much stronger than it had been. Either that or his hand had thawed out enough to feel it.

“Here you go.” Serana handed the blankets next to Arturius, wondering if the woman was going to make it.

He tilted her to the side, getting the comforter under Nova to separate her from the floor. He took the extra sheets and hung them dangerously close to the fireplace.

“Careful with those!” the owner protested.

Arturius ignored the blonde man until the fabric started to smoke slightly. He threw the heat treated fabric on Nova's legs and feet since they were furthest from her heart. “I am going to go get some water to boil. Serana, can you get her out of those wet clothes?”

Serana nodded as Arturius made his way to the door.

“I'll go grab a pot from the kitchen,” the bearded man offered, following the elf.

When the two men left, Serana was alone with the silver haired stranger. She stared at the frail woman's neck, running her tongue across her own lips with hunger. However, she kept her appetite at bay, worried that she would end up killing her by accident due to her critical condition.

Nova started to shiver slightly before the fire, making Serana remember what she was told. She started to untie the straps of the woman's dress, struggling to get the damp fabric off of her. A loud thump startled her slightly. She investigated the noise to see an ornate dagger lying on the ground. She reached over the naked lady to admire the craftsmanship of the knife. “ _Wonder who she had to kill to get this?”_ she thought to herself.

She hung the damp clothing on the shelf that loomed over the fireplace. Serana then repeated what Arturius did with the blankets, trying not to set them ablaze. The vampire set the bed linen down to cover her from neck to toe, trying to trap as much heat into her body as possible.

Nova let out a groan, her body shivering even more. “Astrid...Why?” She clutched the fabric tightly, trying to fight the nightmare in her head.

Serana knelt down beside her head, stroking the soft hair in comfort. “Shh...You're safe now,” she whispered, hoping to manipulate the dream in her favor.

“Ysolda?” Nova whimpered, reaching from under the pile of bedding and holding Serana's hand like a lost child. “I'm...sorry.”

Serana sat in silence, holding the hand of the scared woman. She had an unexpected grip that rivaled most men. Nova curled up in the fetal position, her back toward the source of heat that saved her life. Serana continued to soothe the trembling woman before Arturius returned by himself.

“How is she doing?” Arturius asked, walking over with a dark cast iron pot filled to the brim with snow and icicles.

“She started shivering rather badly, so I put more warm blankets over her.”

“Good. Shivering means her body can sense it’s cold. She's out of the danger zone...for now.” He hooked the cooking vessel up above the fire. He reached down to feel Nova's forehead, sensing a slight fever. Although it could be from the fire, it did not feel life threatening at all regardless. “How long has she been mumbling in her sleep?”

“She just started,” Serana answered. “I think she called me Ysolda and was sorry.”

“Ysolda is a kind gal. How she managed to get involved with the likes of her, I will never understand.” Arturius stood back up, unbuckling the armored chest piece and letting it drop heavily onto the floor. He was too tired to care. He wore some modest clothes under the armor that was damp from sweat. He sat down on the bed, causing it to strain under his weight. “This whole thing does not make any sense,” he exasperated.

Serana laid Nova's head on top of a pillow before sitting next to the elf. “About her no longer being a vampire?”

“Indeed,” he said with a brooding nod. “I never knew there was a cure, short of killing them.” He realized who he was talking to and gave an embarrassed look to Serana. “No offense.”

Serana blew it off, more fascinated in how Nova managed to reverse her condition. “This is news to me as well.” She looked at the bloodshot eyes of the elf that were transfixed on the silver haired woman. “You should get some rest. I can watch over her.”

Arturius shook his head. “I don't really need sleep. Just need to relax is all, and get something to eat.”

“I am rather hungry too,” she sighed.

“Oh...Right,” he said depressingly. “Just go do your thing. I'll wait.”

“Are you sure? I can wait till later.” She fiddled with her hands, scratching the back of them with nervousness.

The elf shook his head in disapproval. “A blood starved vampire is more dangerous than one that just fed, both to themselves and everyone around them. Just do your thing.”

“Aye,” she thanked, getting off the bed. Before she left the room, she looked over her shoulder at him. “Thank you for understanding.”

When Arturius turned his head to reply back, she was already gone. She was as silent as the woman who laid in front of the fire. He laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with unblinking focus. “What in the hell have I gotten myself into?” he groaned.

He felt he was in too deep already. With his supposed betrayal of the Dawnguard and now helping a vampire stop other vampires, he wondered how it all went topsy turvy. He assured himself that the ends justify the means.

Before he could get lost in thought, the door creaked open. Arturius tilted his head upwards, seeing the vampire holding a bowl. “I got you something to eat.” She handed him some soup with larges chunks of his favorite meat.

“Horker stew?” he drooled, trying not to salivate all over himself and the bed. He quickly dug in, scarfing down the meal in a barbaric fashion.

Serana was repulsed over his eating habit. “Are you even tasting it?”

Arturius wiped his mouth off before slowing down in a more acceptable manner. He still took as big of spoonfuls as possible, trying not to slurp from his spoon. “That better?” he asked with a genuine smile.

“Did you grow up with wolves or have you always been like that?”

Arturius chuckled, setting down the empty bowl on the nightstand. “I've always had an appetite, especially for horker.” He patted his belly, satisfied with the warm meal that revitalized his energy. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome. The owner had a lot to offer,” she said with a sinful but subtle smile.

Arturius stiffened up, instinctively putting his guard up. “You...fed off him?”

“He'll be fine. He won't even remember anything except a sore neck,” she assured.

Before they could get into a debate of moral ethics, Nova's eyes started to quiver open. A conscious grumble escaped her lips as she tried to sit up. “Where the hell...” Her eyes shifted towards the bed where the elf and woman were sitting. “You!” She quickly jumped up, uncovering herself in her unintended nakedness. The sudden head rush made her dizzy as well as her weakened state of fragility. Nova tried to keep her balance the best she could as to not fall into the burning pile of wood. Arturius quickly averted his bashful eyes to the ground but kept a watchful eye on her feet in case she tried to to lunge at him.

Serana spoke up in his defense. “He found you passed out on the road not far from here. It's a miracle you managed to make it.”

“And just who the fu-” She stopped before she could finish the obscenity. She squinted her pale eyes at the lady, taken by surprise by the company Arturius has. “You do know he is a vampire hunter, right?”

“Umm...Before we discuss this,” Serana pointed to the wall where her clothes were. “I would appreciate if you covered yourself up.”

Nova's face turned red with both embarrassment and anger from whoever violated her. “The hell did you do to me?!” she yelled, snatching the clothes from the wall. They were still damp and cold. She tossed them to the floor and wrapped herself up in the blankets.

Arturius brought his gaze up from the floor, now able to look at the angry woman. “She had to take your clothes off. Figured you would rather have a woman do that instead of me. Otherwise, you would have died from hypothermia.”

Nova scoffed, still furious over the predicament she was in. “Were you stalking me? We had a deal, mutt!”

“No!” Arturius growled, standing up on his feet to tower over the pale Nord. She did not waver as she glared back at him. “We were walking back from investigating a cave when I caught scent of you. I figured you were the one hunting me this time. That's when I found you passed out on the road. I could have left you but even you don't deserve to die in such a manner.”

“So what? You want me to thank you?” she snorted with sarcasm which quickly turned to wrath. “It was because of you, I ended in that situation in the goddamn first place!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Remember what happened the last time we ran into each other? It was because of your damned sword that I had to became human in order to see again. So thanks for that.” Nova could not get any more sarcastic if she were clapping.

“In any case, you should get some rest. You still need to recover,” he suggested as calm as possible.

“Do I even want to know what you are doing with a vampire? Seems out of your element to be in the company of one.”

“That's something I cannot share with you. Your only concern is to recover.” Arturius turned around on his heels, picking up the armor that was like a second skin to him. He headed out of the room with Serana following behind. “Make sure you hang your clothes up near the fire. That way they won't still be wet in the morning.”

“Before you leave, where are we?”

“Dawnstar,” he said curtly, exiting the room while Serana shut the door behind them.

Only the sound of the crackling fire filled the room as Nova let the blankets drop down. She sat down on the pile of bedding, hovering her hands above near the hearth, still feeling the chill in her bones. “ _Bastard mutt. Thinks I should kiss his feet for saving me?! He was just cleaning up the mess he made in the first place.”_ The warmth of the fire could not melt the cold feeling of hatred she still harbored for the elf. Still, it was a small blessing that she ended up where she was heading anyway.

She yawned, still exhausted from all the traveling and battling for survival. Although she wanted to quickly just rush to the Sanctuary where her family of killers were, she did not want to make the same mistake as before. Especially since her clothes were still unsuitable for wear on top of her weak and vulnerable body. She curled up on top of the carpet of blankets and pulled another one over her. The warmth that flowed over her coaxed her heavy eyelids down, hypnotizing her to sleep.

“She seems...nice.” Serana joked when the two entered the vacant room next to Nova's.

Arturius set down his armor, stretching his sore arms. “I don't exactly blame her.”

Serana sat down on the bed, crossing her legs. “What did she mean that it was your fault she had to become human?”

Arturius leaned his forearm against the wall. “She ended up being struck blind when she held my sword. It's heavily enchanted against all manners of undead. Draugr, vampires, skeletons...”

“Oh...” Serana said disparagingly. “Did you know it would do that?”

“The only time a vampire had touched the blade before that was with the business end of it.” He pushed back against the wall to face Serana. “It wasn't something I intended to let happen.”

“I can tell,” Serana nodded. “We should probably rest up while we have the chance.”

“I can sleep on the floor if you want the bed,” Arturius offered.

Serana shook her head no. “It's fine. After spending centuries upright in a stone tomb, I think I can handle one night on a floor. You need the bed more than I do.”

Arturius was surprised at her answer but offered no objection. “As you wish.” He slid the shirt off his body, leaving on only trousers. Serana's eyes had their full attention at the muscular body that stood before her. She noticed quite a few scars that decorated his chest and back from what looked to be deep cuts. The long jagged mark on his arm seemed to be the newest. The vampire quickly looked away at the wall when he almost caught her looking at him.

Serana stood up from off the bed and sat down next to it, propping herself up against the wall. “There you go,” she volunteered.

Arturius collapsed on it, making the whole structure groan under the added weight of him falling on it. “Forgot how comfy a bed is. Been days since I last slept.”

“Is that normal for you?” she asked with concern.

“Pretty much. I usually sleep once a week but all this traveling wore me out,” he said with a stifled yawn. He rolled over to his side, facing away from Serana.

When she turned her head, she was fascinated and sympathetic towards the stories behind the marks on his skin. “What happened?” she asked, tracing the mar lightly with her fingertips.

Arturius was unused to such contact, especially from the likes of her kind. “It's...a long story,” he muttered, not wishing to revisit the past.

“Oh...Sorry,” she said, withdrawing her fingers.

The elf sat up in the bed, rubbing his eyes. “No, don't be. Lets just say I had a rough time growing up, is all.”

“I see...” Serana frowned at the vague details, wanting to know more but kept silent over the matter. She adjusted herself to make herself more comfortable, bringing her knees to her chest to use as a pillow.

“Are you sure you don't want the bed?” Arturius swung his legs over the edge, ready to stand up.

“Oh no! It's fine,” she insisted, standing up before he could. Serana looked down at elf, taking in a nervous breath.

“Look, if you're cold, I can start a fire. All you had to do was ask.” Before he could pick himself up off the bed, Serana placed a shaking hand on his broad shoulder.

“I don't feel cold, remember?” she teased as she bit her bottom lip. “But there is something I do want to ask though.”

“What is it?” Arturius looked into her haunting eyes, completely captivated by their beauty. “You can have the bed, if you want,” he offered yet again.

Serana shook her head as she guided her sharp fingernail from his collarbone to his chest. She leaned in close to his ear. “It's not the bed that I want,” she whispered before standing straight up. She undid the straps on her corset, lifting it above her head.

“Ser...I...” Arturius tried to protest but was met with a finger on his lips.

“Shh,” she quieted the shocked elf before disrobing herself completely.

Arturius kept silent, keeping his hands on the bed and looking down on the floor. He felt a soft but firm hand bring his bowing head to look up at her. He took notice of her shapely hips to her now excited nipples that stood erect. “I...I've...”

“It's okay,” she purred, bringing her lips dangerously close to his before pressing them together for the first time.

He pulled away to speak. “I can't...”

Serana's hands started to shake, reaching down to retrieve her clothes. “It's because I am a vampire, right?”

“It's not that!” Arturius managed to say, causing Serana to pause. “It's just that...I've never done...this before.”

Serana was confused at to how such a tall, dark, and handsome elf like him was still pure. “You mean with someone like me or...ever?”

“Ever,” Arturius replied awkwardly at the naked woman before him.

Serana dropped her clothes, completely awestruck by what he just said. “Oh...I didn't know.”

“Apologies. I didn't me-”

She interrupted him but this time, with a deep kiss. Arturius could feel her tongue slither in, unsure of what to do. Serana, taking advantage of his inexperience, grasped full control. She pushed him on his back and straddled him without breaking the contact their lips shared. Her claws raked his scarred chest as they moved in a tantalizing manner towards his waist. He could feel her smile against his mouth. Serana pulled away slowly as she begun to undo his pants but Arturius stopped stopped her.

“I can't,” he gasped. “I'm not–”

Serana pursed her lips in frustration as she stood up. “You sure know how to make a lady feel wanted.”

“We just met,” Arturius defended. “Just today even.”

Serana took in a deep breath before creating some distance between them. “I'm...sorry. I just thought you...”

Arturius stood up and held Serana unexpectedly, catching the vampire by surprise. She rested her head on his chest, feeling his heart pound heavily with nervous tension. “I am just not ready.”

Serana could tell he was speaking the truth. Still, it wasn't favorable to be rejected in such a manner. When she looked up into his eyes, they were deep and soulful, understanding as well. His lips were inviting hers. She took the risk and pressed her mouth against his own. Arturius stroked her hair, moaning gently as they shared their embrace.

The vampire broke their seal and smiled sullenly. “I should probably get dressed.”

Arturius shook his head as he scooted over to make room for her on the soft mattress. Despite his size, he was able to make a spot just for her. “You don't have to.”

Serana was reluctant to accept the mild mannered invitation after being embarrassingly rejected but forgave him instantly. She crawled into the bed and felt the warmth of Arturius' thick skin against contrasting against hers. The heavy and deep rhythm of the heartbeat made her thirsty again but felt more tired instead. It was when Serana felt an arm reach around her that she was able to fall into a slumber. She didn't realize how long it has been since she actually felt safe in someone's arms.

* * *

The early morning rays of the sun crept through the cracks of the curtains, bathing Ysolda's face with light. She squinted her eyelids tight before peaking through one of them. “Morning already?” She reached over the other side of the bed but felt a vacant spot where Nova should have been. Wondering where her wife has ran off to, she looked around the room fruitlessly. She picked up the dress that was tossed aside after last night's excursion in bed. The door had a note pinned to it.

_She said she would return in the morning_

_-Owner_

“ _Seriously?”_ she thought to herself after crumpling up the note. “ _What was so damn important that she had to leave without me?”_ She entered the main hall, seeing an empty room with empty tables. Ysolda plopped down on one of the chairs when a man brought her a cup of water.

“You leave the note on my door?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he politely said, placing the cup on the rustic wooden table.

“You know when?”

The dark skinned owner crossed his arms, trying to remember. “Several hours ago. It was shortly after you two went to your room.”

“I see...” She curled her lips with disappointment. “What's for breakfast?”

He raised just one shoulder before listing the items. “The usual: Eggs, bacon, bread. Even have some pheasant if you prefer?

“Just some eggs over easy, please.”

“Aye. Coming right up.” He smiled as he turned around to head into the kitchen.

Ysolda sat in silence, her chin resting on the palm of her hand. She drummed her cheeks, thinking about where Nova ran off to. She heard the sizzling of her order in the back, followed shortly by the delicious smell. It wasn't long before he came back with a plate of the food she ordered. The two sun colored eyes stared up at her looking delectable.

She gave the innkeeper a few septims before digging into the soft and runny yolks. The table came with a complimentary loaf of bread that she used to mop up the yellow pool on her plate. After Ysolda finished waking up with a fresh start to her day, she headed outside to face occupy her time till Nova returned.

The sun glimmered through a haze of light fog that haunted the land scape. The skeletons of trees stood naked and barren all around the town. She followed one of the paths, noticing very few people, unlike Whiterun where you could get lost in a crowd and never accidentally bump into the same person twice in one day. Seemed the only people that are awake in this sleepy hallow were the farmers that try to get everything done before the sun leaves burns on their skin. That and the restless children who went to bed too early and are now scampering about with their imaginary friends until their real ones join them.

The stonehenge caught Ysolda's attention. The ground was softer than it had been the previous night when it was frozen. She took careful steps through the muck, trying not to lose her shoes in the process. When she approached the outer rings of the monoliths, a familiar cloaked figure was meditating in the center.

“Good morning,” Ysolda said with a cheery disposition.

“Why do you disturb me?” Arazel hissed but remained sitting on her folded legs.

The Nord stood awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to that question. “I was just trying to be nice and see how you are doing is all.”

Her body sat deathly still, the only movement coming from her mouth. “I be content within. Anything else?”

Ysolda huffed at the spartan remarks. “You don't have to be rude to me.”

“Hmph...What did you say to your loved one last night? 'I don't care if she calls you a cunt' was it? Now that you got what you needed, now you care what I say?”

“No!” she objected. “What I am saying is you don't need to be so rude when someone is nice to you. Just because you helped out Nova does not mean you can treat me like dirt!”

Arazel launched herself up unexpectedly, her hood flew off her head in the process. The tendrils of her snake like hair weren't tied back like last time. Instead, they drooped around her like a weeping willow. “If that be what upsets you so much, your life must be pretty easy.” Her yellow eyes pierced into Ysolda's gaze.

“You don't know anything about me!”

“Ysolda, trader in Riften, married to the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood,” the golden elf said with certainty.

The red haired Nord took a step back, shocked at what she just heard. “How?”

The mage raised her arms up as someone from the sky was going to pick her up. “I hear the stories from the other side. ”

“The...other side?”

The elf lowered her hands to her sides, her facial tattoos contorting as she talked. “You think this be the only world? That your life be forfeit when you die? Tsk tsk,” she clicked her tongue. “I hear the cries of those who were done wrong, whose lives were cut short by that you call your wife.”

“I don't have to listen to this,” Ysolda sniffled, trying her best not to let her eyes leak. She turned around to walk away but Arazel yelled loudly for her to stop.

“You will want to hear this, lover of darkness...Her fate be of a higher calling should she choose so.”

“Fate?” Ysolda asked, turning around with tear stained cheeks. “What would you know of it?”

“Enough to know that nothing surprises me anymore.” The mage stepped closer to the frightened Nord, getting within whispering distance. She spoke in a tone that only could be heard between the two of them even if someone was eavesdropping. “Who do you think told the dark elf about the vampire?”

Ysolda's eyes flared wildly. “You're...You are the one that gave Arturius that letter?”

“Your skills of deduction be very astute.”

Ysolda grabbed the high elf's shoulders in a fit of anger. “She could have been killed because of you!”

Arazel's stone face changed into a creature of wrath, not intimidated at all by Ysolda. She quickly spun her arms under the Nord's elbows, catching her off guard. The elf maneuvered quickly, catching Ysolda by the throat. “I do not like being touched.”

Ysolda grasped the wrist that was choking her, clawing at it to let her go. However, the grip tightened the more she struggled.

“Did you not hear me? I do _not_ like to be touched. Let go.”

Ysolda's face was turning red, panicking over not being able to breathe. Realizing she was absolutely helpless, the Nord obediently dropped her hands down to her sides. Almost instantly, the grip on her neck was released. Ysolda fell to the ground, coughing violently as she tried to gasp in the missed air into her lungs.

“No reason to get upset over something that did not happen...Would you not agree?” Arazel calmly said, looming over the terrified human before her.

Ysolda kept on her hands and knees, trying to steady her breathing. “Why?” was all she could manage to cough out.

Arazel placed her palms together, lacing her fingers together as if in prayer. “The threads of destiny intertwine. One simple strand ties in with another, weaving together until a bigger picture be formed. She needed to be human once more before she could move on.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Ysolda managed to completed a whole sentence without wheezing. “Are you saying you can see the future?”

“The tides of fate wash away what be written in sand but reveal that carved in stone.”

“Gods, can you speak like a normal person? I don't know what the hell you are trying to say!”

“That sounds like a personal issue,” Arazel shrugged without care. “Besides, I can only share what be done already. To know the future would be to change it.”

Ysolda guardedly rose back up, fear consuming her heart. She rubbed her sore throat that had Arazel's hand print from the choke hold. “So you planned all this? You knew she would come see you because you sent Arturius...And...” Ysolda's mind was torn, going in all different directions. All sense of trying to understand the situation gave way to rudimentary spite. “You cold hearted, sadistic, knife eared bitch!”

Arazel brushed off the string of insults Ysolda procured out of burning rage. “All that can be said is what be already done. Nothing more.”

Ysolda scoffed at her cryptic rhetoric. “So why even bother knowing if you cannot even do anything about it? Why even tell me you sent that hunter after Nova?!”

“You but asked if I knew of fate and gave you the answer. If you be that upset over it, either you asked the wrong question or have not the means to accept it.”

Ysolda threw her hands up in frustration. “I'm done with this conversation. All I wanted to do was thank you for helping out Nova but you were the one that caused her to go blind in the fucking first place. Poisoning someone and then offering an antidote, making them think you saved them. Thank you for that!” The Nord spun around, storming off back into town.

Arazel tossed her head back, moving the thick coils of hair out of her face. “If that be what you want to believe, that be your choice in the matter.” The necromancer sat back down in the lotus position, going back to her meditation. She deeply inhaled and held it, moving as a statue would. The elf expelled all the air in her lungs slowly before opening her eyes again. “Yes, Meridia. Everything be going as you said it would be.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy...Now we know how the meeting between Arturius and Nova came to be. I always loved the Daedra in this game. Their influence is very strong and has been known to change fates of generations of people and the world itself. I have more plans for Meridia as I have been doing a lot of research into her. 
> 
> As for Serana and Arturius, the previous draft was them getting it on but it felt rushed and sudden. It's a slow burn, like previously stated. Can't have them burn hot...yet.


	14. Cause and Reason

The fire in the hearth has long since died before the break of dawn. Nova was still swaddled in the blankets when she reached out of her cocoon to feel for her clothes. They were acceptably dry with only a patch of wetness. “Good enough.” She crawled out of the safety of blankets, tossing on the movement restricting dress on again with much despise. Nova shivered but not from the cold. She had an eerie feeling, like a ghost watching over her. She dismissed it as she creaked open the door, seeing the owner cleaning a table.

“Good morning!” the blonde Nord said with hearty enthusiasm. “Gave us quite a scare last night.”

She looked out both sides of the door as if trying to spot an ambush. “I'm fine,” she said callously. “How much is the room?”

“Unless you plan on staying another day, the elf and his woman covered you for the night; bless their hearts.” He tossed the rag on his shoulder when he gave Nova his full attention. “You should be thankful there are still some kind people like that in this world.”

Nova tried to cover up her malice towards the comment by faking a smile the best she could. “Indeed. Such kind acts,” she strained with the placation. “I am going to go thank them before I leave.” She palmed her hidden dagger, gripping it tight as she approached the room.

The owner started to protest the disturbance of other guests but Nova ignored him as she carefully snuck into the room. After softly shutting the door as to not cause disturbance, she noticed how dark the room was. The curtains covered the windows, making the room bereft of almost all light. She was unused to not being able to see in the aphotic atmosphere and ended up kicking the heavy armor that was inconveniently placed on the floor.

“What the hell?” Arturius muttered, raising himself out the bed instantly.

Nova swore in her head due to the element of surprise being taken away. “It's me,” the assassin confessed.

“Nova?” the elf asked, squinting at the figure standing near the door. “Is that you? What are you doing in here?”

Serana rustled under the covers as well, also awaking from the disturbance. “Ugh...What's going on?” she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes before sitting up on the bed.

“I wanted to know why you as a Dawnguard chose to hunt me down and chain me up but not her,” Nova said with the first thing that came to mind.

Before Arturius could respond, Serana spoke up, “You're lying,” she said through a yawn.

The shock of them sharing a bed almost stunned Nova more so than the vampire's comment. She shifted her weight, feeling her heart speed up in nervousness. “Excuse me?”

“I can tell you're lying,” the vampire now sat up fully, covering her chest up. Her and Arturius were still without clothes after last night's almost taboo encounter.

Nova knew there was no use in hiding it anymore, forgetting about Arturius' new 'friend'. Instead trying to find a way out of it, Nova launched herself at the bed ridden elf in a desperate manner to rid herself of the mutt. Before the dagger could plunge into his chest, she suddenly could not move a muscle in her body.

“The hell?” the assassin tried to say but was unable to move her jaw. Nova was able to move her eyes just enough to see the vampire had her hand raised up; her bony fingers curled toward her. A spell caster. A very good one at that. Even her lungs would not listen and knew it would not take long for the magic to kill her.

Arturius growled slightly at the paralyzed body, feeling affronted after rescuing her from a certain death. “This is how you thank me for saving your life?!”

She needed air now. Her face started to turn a shade of red, both from strain of fighting the spell and her lungs screaming for breath. Arturius took the dagger from the killer's hand and nodded at the vampire. Serana's eye glowed orange. “Don't do anything you will regret,” she asserted with an unspoken threat. She lowered hand to release the mystic binds that held Nova in place.

She fell hard on the ground, choking for air desperately. She then felt herself be lifted and pushed against the wall by thick hands. “Why are you trying to kill me after saving you?!”

Nova's breaths were shallow as she struggled against the behemoth grey skin. “It's all your fault!” she yelled but came out as a whimper. “I can no longer be a vampire thanks to you!”

Arturius' eyes softened but not his grip. “I meant not for that to happen. Regardless, I still saved you from certain death when you were passed out in the snow storm. If I hadn't have smelled your scent, you would be a frozen corpse right now.”

Serana voiced her opinion in the matter as well. “You should be thankful. I actually told him to leave you out there.”

Nova shot her head up, glaring at the company the mutt was keeping. “That mutt tried to kill me just because I was a vampire; nothing more. What makes you think he won't do the same to you?”

“Enough,” Arturius demanded. “Count yourself lucky that I found it in my heart to give you mercy...Even though you just showed how much you didn't deserve it.”

“Oh, thank you for shooting me with an arrow. Thank you for breaking my bow and holding me prisoner so you could have your cohorts torture me until I die. Thank you so much for making me blind and having it to where I could no longer be a vampire.” The exaggerated sarcasm was thick enough to be cut with a knife. She gave him the middle finger to add. “Here is your fucking gratitude, you prick.”

With unexpected agility, Nova raised her legs up around one of the broad arms and jerked heavily, causing Arturius' elbow to almost snap. The pain jolted him, releasing his grip on the assassin. Even Serana was caught off guard and before she could muster up the magic to restrain her, Nova was gone in a flash along with the dagger. Arturius cradled his arm, the joint sprained almost to the point of breaking. Using his magic, he waved a healing hand over his elbow, soothing away the pain. Within seconds, he was able to twist his arm around without difficultly.

Serana's eyes went back to their natural shade of soft amber. “Tell me again why you spared her?”

Arturius shook his head. “Guess I shouldn't have, huh?” He sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing heavily with disappointment. Serana wrapped her arms around the broad shoulders, leaving one hand to droop down to tease his chest with her finger nails. Her chin rested up against his neck, kissing his cheek.

“You did what was right in your heart regardless. Although, you learned your lesson, right?”

Arturius tensed up as her fingers titillated his skin, causing the small hairs on his arms and back of his neck to stand on end. “Aye,” he chuckled. The elf brought his hand up to meets Serana's, running his thumb across her pale knuckles. He turned his eyes toward his peripheral vision to look at her. “Can we...uhh...talk about last night?”

Serana nodded uncertainly, not sure of what he meant by those words. “What is it?”

Arturius bit his lip, squeezing her hand gently. “I am sorry. I just...We should think about us before jumping into something that serious.”

Serana playfully dug her nails into his chest, enough to make Arturius flinch. “No need. It's just...” She paused, adding some suspense in the air. “You're the only one in my life who's shown me selfless caring. Guess I got carried away.” She relaxed her grip on him but continued to hold onto his scar ridden chest.

“Apologies...I didn't mean to upset you.”

“You didn't.” She twirled her finger tenderly on his torso. A gentle kiss from her soft lips was placed on his rough neck.

He brought her arm up close to his mouth, returning the kiss to the soft skin. “I guess I am curious more than anything...Why me?”

“Besides you saving me from being used as a sacrifice, talked to me about the humiliating ordeal I went through when no one else cared or at least, were expecting me to?”

“You mean, there's more?” Arturius joked.

Serana played with his ragged goatee, twisting it in a spiral. “I guess the fact that you defended me against a fellow hunter and did not see me as an enemy based on my lineage added to it as well. And let's face it...Tall, dark, handsome, with some scars? I don't think I stood a chance.”

“Scars, huh? There isn't a lot of stories behind them,” he said with humbleness, hoping not to stir too much excitement within her.

“What about this one?” Her nails lingered to his chest, tracing the diagonal mar from his clavicle to where his rib cage separates in the middle.

Arturius shrugged without much thought. “Just a training accident when I first joined the Companions.”

Serana's eyes widened in surprise. “They are still around? I've heard tales about their bravery and fierceness in battles. Very brave fighters.”

“We try to be. I became Harbinger after the last one was killed in an attack.”

“With how commanding you were with Celann, leadership suits you well.” She leaned off Arturius' shoulder and ran her nails over the series of marks and blemishes that painted his ash grey skin with jagged, pink lines. “There seems to be a lot of the same scars on your back...What are they from?”

Arturius clenched his fists, his mind flashing to the floggings he got from the old hag who looked after children without family. “After my parents died, they threw me in an orphanage. The old, nasty bitch there hated children though. More so, elves and orcs. She made me her favorite whipping boy.”

“Oh...That's horrible,” Serana whispered, wishing she could remove the marks of abuse on his back.

“Eh, it's fine,” Arturius said, trying to remain stoic. Serana knew he didn't mean it but dismissed it without bringing it up. “A few years ago, she was found dead; her throat slit. The children there weren't even upset over it. They seemed quite happy, not that I blame them.”

“Pretty bad when the children are glad someone is dead.” Serana leaned towards the elf, she bare chest touching his back. She gave him a tender kiss on the cheek while her hand explored more of his body. She reached his forearm, feeling the embossed skin. “This one looks...recent.”

“It actually happened a few days ago. You can thank our esteemed guest that we rescued.”

“Serious? You save that slit after she did that to you?” Serana shook her head in disbelief.

“I felt bad because she went blind. Just thought that she was lost because of that.”

“I would have done to her what you did to those two vampires back in the cave,” she growled, her nails digging into the elf's skin without realizing.

“Easy there. It's over, said, and done with.” Arturius squeezed her hand in comfort and also to stop her from piercing into his flesh.

“So what now?” Serana wondered. “We're not going to just stay in this room all day, are we?”

Arturius gave her a puzzled looked. “But it's daytime. Won't that...?”

“If I were blood starved, maybe.”

“You think you would be thirsty after being asleep for a few eras.”

“You satisfied me in other ways,” she purred with content.

“Wait...What?” Arturius stood up off the bed, turning around with the same look he had toward the two vampires in the cave before he mutilated them. “You _fed_ off me?”

Serana gulped hard, seeing his once compassionate eyes furrow with rage unbound. “You were sleeping...I didn't think you would mind.”

The hunter hammered his fist into the wall, not taking his eyes off the vampire who flinched. “I never said you could do that!”

Serana scurried into the corner of the bed, holding her hand out in fear. “Please...I'm sorry! Don't hurt me!” she begged. She took hold of the sheets, trying to cover herself up like a child hiding from the monster they were told that lived under the bed.

The fire in his eyes flared with brimstone before fading away. Arturius saw Serana as the terrified victim from eons ago, sniffling between panicked gasps. The same fear that the woman on the farm was exhibiting. “I...I didn't mean to scare you,” the chagrined Dunmer stammered. He reached out to place a remorseful hand on her leg but she flinched as she withdrew it towards her chest. “It won't happen again.”

Serana swallowed heavily, still high strung over how he bellowed his voice. “You...You were about t-t-to kill me.”

“No,” he whispered gently. “I would never do that. Not after last night.” He knelt down on the edge of the straw filled mattress. “Apol-”

“Apologies?” she interrupted. “How many times are you going to say that?”

“It's never been about the same thing twice, has it?” he countered.

Serana thought about it, trying to find a way to prove him wrong but couldn't. “You...You were already sleeping and...I just...wanted to know what you tasted like.” The vampire curled her lips against her teeth, unsure of how he would take that.

Arturius sniffed sharply. “I'm sorry I scared you like that.”

“Why were you so angry?” the vampire pleaded, lowering the sheets from her chin but still kept her legs close to her torso.

“I....” He tried to speak but was at a loss of words. His eyes darted from side to side as if the answer was written in front of him. “My first thought was you draining me in my sleep. I don't like the feeling of being that vulnerable while I slept.”

“Oh,” Serana simply replied, unsure of what else to say.

“Anyway...We should probably get going,” Arturius grumbled, trying to steer the conversation in another direction.

Serana nodded, scooting her way off the bed. The elf held his hand out to help her up. She looked at him with some shades of fear but slid her fingers on the open palm. They stood against one another, bare flesh exposed. Arturius brushed the vampire's long, dark hair behind her ear, causing her to flinch slightly at the touch. After a few gentle strokes from his hand, she looked up at the now gentle giant that towered over her. She leaned up on the tips of her toes in order to kiss him once again. He leaned down slightly so she would not struggle to do so.

“I want to ask you something,” Serana requested, placing the balls of her feet back on solid ground.

“Of course,” the hunter said without trying to sound nervous.

She folded her hands down in front of her, averting eye contact by tiling her head down until her hair was covering most of her face. “You were curious as to why you...and I answered...So why...Why me?”

“I honestly was not expecting you to feel for me in that way...At all. I've never seen the figure of a woman like that. I didn't know what to do. The way you allured me, I was surprised I was able to say no.”

“Oh...Okay,” Serana's tone was tinged with disappointment in his answer.

“But why you? I see not a creature of the night or a blood sucker, or anything of the like. I see a strong and fierce woman who stopped one of her own to save me. You know what you want and speak your mind without hesitation.” Arturius bit his bottom lip, afraid he was rambling on but he noticed that Serana's mouth wasn't the only part of her that smiled. Her eyes bowed along with her cheeks when she did. “Plus you're stunning and breathtaking to add on top of that.”

“Are you trying to make me blush now?” She was still keeping her gaze away from his, hiding behind her hair.

“Are you even able to?” he jested as he once again tried to brush the wisps of hair out of her face.

Serana rolled her eyes while smirking. “You got me there. Now...You should probably get dressed before I get too distracted with what I see.”

“Aye. Your night vision is better than mine.” Arturius walked over to the curtains and cracked them open but not so much as to strain the vampire's eyes. He reached down to fetch the soft, woven shirt and pulled it over his head. Serana watched with attentiveness, not daring to miss a single second of his rippled body moving.

“What about you?” he asked, holding up her clothes in front of her.

“Huh?” she muttered, snapping back from her fantasy. “Thanks.” She grabbed the corset and slipped it over her head. She grasped the laces and pulled gently, tightening the fabric that wrapped around her snugly. She put on the rest of her attire, making Arturius drool like a dog staring at a fresh steak after living off grass for days.

“What?” Serana giggled as she began to tie a pair of braids to wrap around the top of her head like a crown.

“Just admiring you is all.” Arturius started to throw on his gear, donning himself to the feared hunter once again.

She smirked at the compliment but took notice of the scabbard that held his sword dangling from his hip. “Is that the sword Nova was talking about?”

“Aye,” he affirmed as he secured each strap, making sure the armor is well fastened.

“I'll make sure to never hold it.” Serana got down on her knees to reach under the bed to retrieve the Elder Scroll.

Arturius folded his arms across his barrel chest. “Almost forgot about that. Know how we are supposed to read it?

“Anyone is able to actually. Just once though, unless they're well prepared for it. We can have someone else read it and see if they can lead the way to the artifact?”

Arturius shook his head at the offensive idea. “I don't feel comfortable using someone else as a pawn that gets thrown away.”

“But my father will...No matter what. ” The vampire strapped the container holding the ancient knowledge to her back. “I understand your sentiment but sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.” She then realized those were the same words her father said. However, it was not for the greater good of everyone. Just for himself.

Arturius' teeth seized together with anger and revolt. “So we have to be as evil as your father to beat him?”

“No...I am saying we have to be as determined. You don't want to know what will happen if he ends up succeeding in his plan.”

“Yeah, I know...The sun will get blocked out by clouds or something,” he mentioned casually, not understanding the gravity of the situation the way Serana does.

“Cloudy days?” Serana was taken back by his ignorance, wondering how much hope there is if the hunter before her took such a lackadaisical attitude towards the matter. “Not even close. Imagine darkness all around, day as black as night. Not only will vampires be unstoppable but life as we know it will die. The plants and trees no longer survive, the animals that feed off the vegetation die. Humans, elves, orcs...Everyone will die.”

“If that happens, won't the vampires die from lack of bodies to feed off of as well?”

“Now you understand why we cannot let this madness come to fruition.” She headed out the door without another word.

Arturius quickly looked over the room, making sure everything was accounted for before chasing after Serana. “Wait up!” he postulated but she was already outside. His stomach objected the lack of breakfast when he left but simply ignored it.

“Gods, it's bright out here,” Serana squinted her eyes to strain the glare of the sun on the snow. She took in the cozy, small town atmosphere that she didn't appreciate fully until now. Everything was covered in white powder except the stone path that someone meticulously kept clean.

Arturius coughed as the frosty morning air hit his lungs. “So why are we trying to find this bow if it is so dangerous? Can't we just leave it where it's at without worry?”

Serana shook her head in disapproval. “Two reasons why. First, if we just leave this alone, he will find it sooner or later. My father  is immortal, after all. Second, the bow is a weapon that is deadly to undead much like your sword there. However, you won't be able to get close enough to use your weapon.  Auriel's Bow is our only shot to stopping him.”

“I would like to see a vampire be able to stand toe to toe with me and live,” Arturius boasted, cracking his knuckles.

“You don't understand the power he wields,” she warned with trepidation in her voice. “You've never crossed paths with a true vampire.”

“I thought you were one?”

Serana sighed heavily, putting her palm on her face. “Yes, but...” The vampire was trying to come up with an analogy and wanted to smack herself again when she realized the obvious answer standing in front of her. “As a werewolf, you transform, right?”

Arturius tilted his head as his stare deepened. “Are...Are you saying...?”

“That is the difference between a Child of Coldharbour and someone who was just a regular vampire. The only chance we have at stopping him is with the bow.”

“Okay, I get it,” he sharply chided.

“Good. Now, where is this place we need to go to?” Serana demanded, getting right to the point.

“It's about a daylight's journey south from here but it would be easier by carriage if you prefer?”

“A carriage ride? Hmm...” Serana thought about how it would be faster to go by foot since they can cut through the terrain easier than a horse. However, with the time of day, it would be rather difficult to maintain her stamina for such long distance travel. “Probably would be best to go with that.”

Arturius surveyed around to try and locate where the stable master would be. “Not sure where it's at.”

“We can just walk around till we do,” Serana offered, following the cobblestone path.

Arturius' nose picked up on Nova's scent yet again. His eyes followed in the direction her musk seemed to be going, confused as to why it lead what seemed like the outskirts of town. It didn't even lead to any of the main paths that lead to the departure of Dawnstar.

“Something the matter?” Serana entreated.

“See that path past that building over there where it looks like it goes nowhere?” Arturius raised his hand to point in the direction.

The vampire nodded. “What about it?”

“Nova's aroma is-”

“Leave her unless you plan on killing her,” Serana abruptly sneered.

Arturius thought about it but dismissed it. “We have more pressing concerns at hand.”

They took the other path that snaked its way around the small body of frozen water. The neighing of horses gave the duo a sign of where they were at. Arturius approached the carriage rider who was digging in the horse's hooves to free it of refuse.

“Excuse me, is your carriage available?”

“Hold on,” he grunted, trying to remove the caked mud and snow that was imbedded deep. “There we go.” The keeper stood up, dusting himself of all daily residue. “What can I do for ya?”

“Riften,” Arturius requested, palming the driver several pieces of gold.

“Gods, I just came from Riften the other day. As long as I am not going back to Morthal though. Place is too muddy.” He accepted the gold anyway and stashed it into his side pouch. “Climb in back and we'll be off.”

Arturius approached the back and helped Serana up first. She smiled at the gentlemanly act and gave a nod of thanks. The wagon creaked with strain as the hunter stepped up and sat down across from the vixen before him.

“Too bad we already rested,” Serana sighed, crossing her legs. “Going to take us a while to get there.”

* * *

Nova bounded down the twisting stairs into the Sanctuary, skipping a few steps along the way. She heard Cicero playing with his knives, stabbing into the table in the demented game to aim between his fingers. His shrill voice was echoing across the stone walls that irritated Nova's ears.

“Madness is merry and merriment's might, when the jester comes calling with his knife in the night!” he cackled before plunging the dagger in the table. He twitched his gaze towards Nova and started clapping. “Oh Listener! You have returned!”

“How observant,” she tongued with irritation over his eccentric and nettlesome personality. Although as annoying as he was, his loyalty had proved to be unwavering towards the Listener. Anything she asked, he did despite the back sass. Cicero then took leave to go attend to the Night Mother that he obsessed over and looked after.

When Nova looked around, the only other person was one of the nameless initiates who has yet to earn the position to be called by his birthright. He was wearing the full decorative black and red armor of the lower ranked killers in training. The mask he wore covered from him from neck to nose, only leaving his eyes exposed. They were the same shade of green as Ysolda's. “You. Where is Nazir and Babette?”

“Listener,” he gave a simple bow of obedience. “I believe Babette is sleeping while your Speaker went out to fulfill the Night Mother's wishes with a few others. It's just us four, including you, Listener.” Again he gave a bow, directly correlating her title with the gesture each time.

“Damn,” she uttered with disappointment.

“Permission to ask what bothers you, Listener?” Although the respect and submissiveness was welcome, the repetitive nature was already wearing on Nova's nerves.

“You just did.” The initiate stood silent, not wishing to say anything further as to not upset his leader. He lowered his head, affixing his eyes to the ground. After realizing he was not going to say anything, Nova gave him permission. “Just let Nazir know when he gets back that I fixed the problem we were having.”

“Yes, Listener. Your will be done.”

“How long has Babette been resting?”

“Since dawn, Listener.”

“Of course,” Nova sighed, realizing the stupid question she asked. The assassin in training stood without giving any sign of the sarcasm she would expect from Nazir or Cicero. The politeness was boring with this one. “How long have you been with us?”

“Two weeks, three days, Listener,” he said instantly as if he were counting the days before she asked.

“I see.” Nova pulled up a chair and sat down at the table with knife marks from Cicero's game. “Why?”

“Pardon, Listener?”

Nova gestured for him to sit down across from him. “Why did you join us?” she repeated.

The trainee scooted the offered chair back and sat down before answering. “I like what I do, Lis-”

Nova raised her hand before setting it down on her table. “Stop with the formalities. Once in awhile is enough; not every time you speak. Understand?”

“Affirmative,” he said stiffly. “To answer your question; I like what I do.”

“So why are you here now instead of with Nazir?”

“I do not question his commands.”

“A quality for both the wise and the foolish. Just make sure you don't blindly follow without thinking for yourself as well,” Nova suggested.

“I...I do not understand what you mean by that.” Although he was confused over her advice, his voice did not change pitch.

“For example...” Nova pulled out her Razor and placed it down between them. “If I were to say to go kill Babette right now, would you?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, doubt or even remorse in his voice.

“Why?” she demanded, curious as to what his reply would be.

He placed his folded hands on the table, staring at Nova with unblinking eyes. “Because your will is our own. You need not to justify why.”

Nova sat back in her chair, amused but concerned at the same time. “And if Nazir were to ask you of the same thing?”

“I...” He started to say before pausing to deliberate his answer.

Before the initiate could answer, Nova said her piece first. “That's what I meant by thinking for yourself. Understand now?” She was enlightened that the man was not just a mindless slave.

“Affirmative.”

“Good.” Nova grasped the dagger and sheathed it once again. “Now I have an assignment for you, if you so choose to accept.”

“If...I choose?” It was as if he never knew there were any options in this line of work.

“Were you here yesterday when I brought my wife?”

The initiate’s eyes rolled to the top of his head, trying to look for answers from his memories. “Ysolda...Red hair, green eyes, a bruise on her neck and stands a few inches taller than you.”

Nova's eyes widened in astonishment mixed in with anger. “Were you checking her out?” she interrogated with a jealous tone.

He shook his head no to answer. “I pay attention to my surroundings, dates, and people to the best of my ability, Listener.”

Nova leaned in close, studying the newly acquired assassin carefully. “How well?”

“Besides you no longer being a vampire and your eyesight returned?” he questioned by removing the obvious answer.

“Keep going,” she urged with curiosity.

“I know you recently had your shoulder injured based on how little you move it compared to your other one,” he stated collectively with unwavering focus.

Nova tested him even further. “Without looking, what is on the shelf behind you?”

He closed his eyes, concentrating hard before answering. “A stack of four books, a quill, a bottle of ink, a map of Skyrim, and a spiderweb with a fly caught in it that's been dead since yesterday.” The initiate's eyes opened back up to his amazed and shocked leader.

“That is impressive...Something that is hard to do with the likes of me. Well done,” Nova praised.

“Thank you,” he said humbly and estranged.

Nova was most intrigued by this human liquidator. “What is your name?”

His eyes finally gave a response of emotion as he answered. “Triunn.”

She gave a subtle but wicked smile as the gears in her head started turning. “I think your talents are being wasted sitting here with your thumb up your ass. Don't you agree, Triunn?”

He shrugged his shoulder in response. “I do what is asked of me, or not asked of me, is all.”

“I am simply offering if you want this task or not. It's up to you if you so choose.”

Triunn decided to go with his leader's advice about thinking for himself. “Can I hear about the details first before I decide?”

“If you so wish,” Nova answered with a nod. “There is a special target I have in mind. However, I do not want him killed. I just need to know where he goes, what he is doing, the company he keeps.”

“Keep tabs on said person?” He was somewhat dispirited with the flat task but figured it was still better than staying in the sanctuary.

“Without being noticed,” she added. “Think you can manage that?”

“Certainly.” Although Nova could not see his face from under the mask, she could tell Triunn was looking forward to it.

“Good. Take off that cowl by the way. No need to keep yourself hidden from me,” Nova ordered.

Triunn did as commanded, removing the face garb and pulling back the hood that hid his blonde hair. His head shaved on the sides but with the top pulled back into a short pony tail. He was younger than expected, looking to just enter adulthood.

“Now, who you will be tracking is a very dangerous person. Unless he is ready to kill you, under no circumstances will you engage him.”

Triunn scratched his hairless chin. “I need to know everything you do about him then.” The submissive man from before seemed to disappear.

“Do you know of the Dawnguard?” Nova inquired further.

“A small group of vampire hunters made by the Jarl of Riften back in the second era after his son became infected. They were meant to quarantine him from the outside but decided it was best to kill him. After that, they were banished by the Jarl but they kept their namesake to cleanse all who are vampires. If I recall correctly.”

Nova sat there, her eyes widened in surprise at how he knew all this. “You just had to say 'vampire hunters'. Didn't need a history lesson, Triunn.”

He bowed his head in both apology and obedience once again. “Yes, Listener.”

“Anyway, he is stationed with them. He goes by the name Arturius. Grey skinned elf that stands as tall as any Nord, but that is not what makes him dangerous.” Nova leaned in close, her eyes flaring with the haunting memory of her encounter with the cur. “He is also a lycan.”

“A werewolf?” Triunn said with bewilderment but absent fear.

She rested her back against the chair, propping her feet on the tabletop casually. “If you want to turn this down, it's fine,”

“No, m'lady. However, I do have a suggestion if you would hear me out?”

“Don't ever call me your lady,” Nova sharply demanded but cooled her temperament shortly after. “What suggestion would that be?” she asked calmly.

“Instead of putting myself at risk with spying off into the shadows, would it not be easier to join the Dawnguard and get a more detailed account of their motives as well as getting closer to the target?”

Nova started laughing, making Triunn wonder what was so funny. Before he could recant his proposition, she spoke. “Are you trying to usurp me as leader?”

“I would never betray you with such thoughts, Listener!” Triunn sternly said as he rose from his chair.

Nova was startled at the emotion he suddenly exhibited out of nowhere, causing her to almost fall out of her chair. “Calm down. I was saying how much better of an idea you had than me. Was just wondering if you were trying to take the throne, is all.”

“Oh,” an embarrassed Triunn grunted before going back to his seat. “Apologies.”

“Are you sure you want to do this though?”

He gave a solid nod of assurance. “If this target is as important as you aforementioned then I would be glad to be of service.”

Nova stood up and walked over to the shelf, grabbing a quill and a roll of paper. “I want you to give his letter to Brynjolf in Riften. He is a redheaded Nord down in the Ratway.” She returned to her seat and started to scribble furiously a letter of instruction. “You will report to him when you can so he can send word to me.”

“Affirmative,” Triunn said as he waited for her to finish up with the parchment. She sealed the letter up with the wax of a nearby candle before imprinting a skull on the cooling seal.

She handed him the rolled up paper but pulled it back when he reached for it. “Do not under any circumstances read this. Brynjolf will not believe you if the stamp is broken.”

“I won't, Listener,” he vowed as she gave him the letter of instruction.

“Be on your way then,” she instructed. As he bounded for the stairs, Nova turned her head. “By the way, if you get caught and end up spilling any of our secrets...”

Triunn paused waiting for her to finish her sentence. “Then what?”

“Well...I'll leave that to your imagination,” she smiled before giving a wave of dismissal.

“Understood,” Triunn said as he left to his quarters to get changed into more casual clothing before heading to his destination.

* * *

 


	15. Fates Unknown

“Skyrim hasn't changed all that much since I was a child,” Serana remarked as the snow covered scenery passed her by. “Still the same winters as before.” Serana sat back, enjoying the fresh air despite it being day. The sound of the crisp snow on the swaying evergreens tickled her ears.

“Least you don't feel the cold as much anymore, right?” Arturius shivered across from her, keeping his hands together to keep them warm. He was wanting to use the warming fire magic but didn't want to drain his energy.

“I can always change that,” she joking offered, bearing her fangs.

“I'll pass,” the elf politely declined but leaned in close enough for only her to hear him. “Besides, what would that do to my inner wolf?”

“That's...a good question. Either to become a vampire or you won't?” she guessed without having any clue.

He scoffed at the options, wondering if the third one involved death from the intermingled blood. “Not taking that chance,” Arturius curtly stated.

“I know,” she giggled. “I just like teasing you.”

“I am quite curious though...How do you turn someone into a vampire? It's not through just feeding on someone, is it?”

Serana shook her head. “Not quite as simple as that. The best way is for a vampire to share their blood with their chosen one.”

Arturius raised a single eyebrow. “So you poison them?”

“If you want to go by that,” Serana replied with dejection over the derogative comparison. “There is a difference between feeding and turning someone though.”

“I see...Learn something new every day,” Arturius said with a heavy sigh as he hunched over. “Nova was right about me. The only thing I knew of vampires until I met you was how to kill them.”

“Ugh,” Serana said with disgust at the mention of her name. “Why are you letting her bother you like that?”

Arturius scratched his stubble ridden face, still crusty from the blood despite washing his face with the waterfall. “I don't know. Ever since I joined up with the Dawnguard, it's been pounded into my head that all vampires are just diseased monsters that will infect everyone.” He bit his bottom lip, gazing at the enchantress sitting across from him. “I look at you and wonder how much more there is to learn.”

Serana felt flattered and smiled at the compliment. “What is it you want to know?”

Arturius chuckled before huffing out a groaning sigh. “I don't even know what to ask.”

“Well, you know the bits that I told you and the obvious weakness to sunlight.”

“When I had Nova in custody, she said that the sun would have killed her because she went too long without feeding. Is there any truth in that?”

“Yeah, there is. Right now, you can tell the sun is bothering me with sunburn even with this hood on.” Arturius took a closer look at her, seeing her pale skin now blemishing with pink tones. Her eyes were starting to turn bloodshot as well as if waking up from a hangover. “If I have gone days without blood, the sun would set me on fire in seconds.”

“That quickly?” he questioned with surprised. All this time with the Dawnguard and he has never witnessed such an event.

Serana nodded sadly. “It's rare to happen on accident. It's more punishment such for acts of treason towards the clan.”

“That's...just horrible,” he grimaced at the thought of how someone could be so cruel, even against the very things he hunts down.

“Pretty ironic coming from you after cleaving someone's face in half,” the vampire remarked.

“Compared to starving one for days before being burned alive?” Arturius retorted back.

“I guess it is a little barbaric. Still, that is the capital punishment for those who betray my father.”

Arturius' nails dug into the wooden seat, seething with burning hatred. “Does that mean he will do that to you as well?” If his teeth were pressed against each other any harder, a few would have broken off in his mouth.

“That is a risk I am willing to take,” Serana replied with serenity in her voice, already accepting it like fate. “But first, he would make sure his is able to end the Tyranny of the Sun before doing so.”

Arturius' nails were already digging trenches into the carriage seat, scraping shavings off at the thought of someone doing that to their own daughter. “I can see why you despise him so much.”

* * *

Nova's black horse bolted down the path, racing towards Morthal at blinding speed. Shadowmere's breath didn't even quicken despite the last few miles of sprinting. His thunderous hooves echoed against the mountain face and receded into the valley below. Nova always rode him bareback, sensing discomfort with saddles and reins for both of them. She held onto his thick neck, being careful not to pull the mane.

Morthal was soon approaching as the smell of firewood burning becoming more prominent. A blanket of smoke hovered around the area as well as the area's natural fog from the swamp. When she drew nearer to the stables, the caretaker got nervous as he approached the dark, demonic horse with glowing red eyes.

Nova dismounted in a flamboyant manner, rolling off with a backwards somersault. “Stay,” she said, pointing to the stables where two other horses were. Shadowmare trotted elegantly towards the empty stall, causing the other horses to take notice of the otherworldly companion. The stable hand gulped loudly, unsure of what to say. “No need to look after him. Just don't get too close,” Nova glared before walking towards the inn.

“Y-y-yes ma'am,” the boy stuttered before tending to the other stallions that were just as nervous from Shadowmare as he was.

The innkeeper was sweeping the welcome mat, yawning as he worked. The Redguard man gave an exhausted nod to his approaching guest, opening the door for her. “Welcome back.”

“Mhm,” Nova grunted as she walked by him to go straight to her and Ysolda's room. When the door creaked open, the fair haired Nord was almost tackled by her wife. Anyone else and she would have slipped her knife into their side.

“Nova!” Ysolda cried out, holding her wife close in a bear hug.

“I said I would be back in the morning.” She stroked the red hair of her lover, wondering what was causing her to be high strung.

“You need to sit down for this,” she cautioned, wiping away her tear stained cheeks.

“Who did this to you?” Nova immediately demanded with blood lust in her voice when she saw the bruising on her neck.

“This is about you, ” she solemnly stated, holding Nova's hand.

“What do you mean?”

“The elf that 'helped' you...She was the reason Arturius blinded you in the first place. She told him where to find you and even knew beforehand that this would happen!”

Nova's mouth twitched slightly; her eyes glared with death as if she were the avatar for him. “She what?” the Nord asked with calm fury.

“She knew that you would come seeking her to heal your blindness,” Ysolda continued, getting more panic ridden. “Something about you needing to be living again, but she would not say why.”

“And these marks on your neck?” Nova asked when she tilted Ysolda's head to see more clearly.

Ysolda shrugged her neck, shying away to hide the handprint that clutched around her throat. “I...went to slap Arazel after what she told me. She grabbed me but let go soon after.”

Nova kissed her forehead gently. “Stay here,” she ordered before heading back out the door with murderous intent. If she were able to take Arazel back to the Sanctuary, it would prove to be more torturous fun than a quick slash across the throat.

Ysolda reached over to touch Nova's shoulder, urging her to stop. “Please don't. There is something about her...”

The assassin shook her head, denying her request. “Not going to work this time, Ysolda. Just stay here. I will be back within the hour.” She barged out the door, leaving her lover on her own amid her protests.

“ _She has the gall to touch my wife like that? I will cut her fucking fingers off one at a time for her transgressions!”_ Nova stormed off towards where the magic pillars stood, remembering the ball of energy that brought her life back. Still, it made little difference what the golden elf did if she was the cause of this.

In the center was the hooded target meditating in the center, sitting like a statue. Nova instinctively reached for her bow that she wished she had on her. Cursing herself for letting it get broken by the cur, she focused instead on the knife eared mage ahead of her. Just a few more steps before Nova could plunge her Razor into the back of her neck. Or even slide it across her throat so Arazel can watch herself bleed out. Her target still didn't take notice of the assassin drawing closer. She raised her dirge and quickly swung it into the side of her head, piercing her ear canal. Expecting resistance as she entered the brain, Nova instead almost lost her balance as her hand passed through her target.

“What in the...?” It was an illusion as her knife flowed through her like fog, disrupting the false image. “Fucking bitch. Where are you!?” Nova howled, her dagger now shaking with petulance.

“ _Your rage will be your undoing,”_ the eerie illusion spoke but without moving its mouth. “ _Best be on your way. There be nothing for you here.”_

“You send that bastard mutt after me and you expect me not to have vengeance?!” Nova fruitlessly pointed the tip of her precious knife at the false Arazel. It didn't respond at all before disappearing altogether in a mist of black smoke. Even though Nova didn't particularly like magic, she learned about how to fight against it so she would never be at a disadvantage. With illusionary magic, the caster had to be close by. She stalked the circle of stones until she found footprints embedded in the boggy ground. They were still fresh; most tracks disappear in a matter of minutes on the spongy terrain.

The killer traced the physical vestiges that lead into the woods. The trees had moss growing all over the bark and limbs that left a slimy residue on her garments that she just changed out of. Nova stopped moving forward instantly to bend down and inspect the trip wire hiding amongst the fallen branches of trees. She looked around, wondering what trap it would set off. Nova picked up a heavy branch and took a few steps back before chucking it on the line. Two bent trees snapped to attention, causing a hidden net under the wire to raise up into a cocoon.

“ _There be still nothing for you here. Turn back,”_ a ghostly echo warned as if it were coming from the trees themselves.

Nova took a defensive stance, twitching her head at any subtle noise. “You have a lot to answer for!” she yelled, swinging her knife wildly at the hanging limbs. Another apparition appeared before her, standing grimly still.

“ _Your qualm be not with me.”_

“Shut up and show yourself, coward!” Nova screamed, throwing a fist uselessly at the shade. “I will find you!”

“ _Even if you do, what will that bring?”_ the image asked. “ _It will not change who you will be.”_

“What I will be is your end!” The tendons in Nova's neck stretched her skin as she yelled, trampling through the bog. “You think you can stand against the Listener?! I am Death itself!”

“ _I've spoken to many of your victims. So much pain you have caused and suffering you dealt for profit and greed. You never dealt with death as I have. You be but a puppet.”_

Nova realized she was getting too worked up and took a deep breath to calm her rage. When she opened her eyes, a different figure started to form before her. A shapely woman started to manifest from the swirling energies. “ _Well, look who we have here,”_ it said with a silky voice.

“No...” Nova gasped, taking a step back. “You're dead...I killed you.”

“ _Yes, of course you did,”_ the shade said before walking towards Nova. Her blonde hair waved slightly despite there being no breeze. “ _It was a good kill too. Well deserved on my end.”_

“Go to hell, Astrid.”

“ _Been there, done that,”_ she replied with amusement. “ _But has killing me stopped what already happened?”_

“You're not even real,” Nova said with assurance, moving through the mirage. A chill made her shudder as she moved past the ghostly figure. The same feeling Nova had when she severed Astrid's mortal coil.

“ _Too afraid to answer? Never figured the Listener to be afraid of anything,”_ the ghost mocked.

Nova thrashed the knife with berserker fury, becoming completely unhinged at her former leader. “Shut up!”

The spirit became distorted, forming into another shade. “ _All I did was work at a mill. What did I do to deserve this?”_ a young woman asked. “ _How much was my death worth? Could I have paid you the difference to live?”_

“Business is business. I care not why or who,” Nova said coldly, barely remembering the face before her.

The figure grew in size, a tail shooting out the back end and claws replaced his fingers. “ _And what would Ysolda think knowing you killed one of the Khajiit she worked with?”_

Silence escaped Nova's mouth, paralyzed by what the cat said.

The shadow started to laugh. “ _Everything leaves a ripple, whether for good or bad. What have you done besides kill?”_

Nova turned her back towards the painful and forgotten truth. “What's done is done,” exclaimed.

The spirit energy phased through Nova again, swirling back into the image of the necromancer that was forming these illusions. “ _It's not too late to change your ways and be on a better path for tomorrow,”_ she advised, almost sounding like pleading.

“I have a better idea,” Nova said with an evil smirk as she dashed through the trees and sunken stumps. She found the source of the magic phantoms that tried to break her spirit and mind sitting on a stone platform. The assassin tackled her, holding the knife to her throat. “You think you I have any regrets about what I have done?” Nova questioned with pride and satisfaction in her voice.

Arazel's visage showed no fear as she stared into pale eyes of her assailant. “Killing me won't solve anything.”

“It will make me happy though,” she stated with a sadistic smile, pressing the edge of the blade harder against the soft flesh.

Arazel closed her eyes, waiting for the knife to slice her jugular open but the moment never came. Nova slowly withdrew the Razor from her neck. “Why wait? This be what you wanted, right?”

“Can't answer questions if you are dead.”

“I will say to you as I did with Ysolda. For you to know your own future would be to change it as well,” she objected openly.

“Wrong answer,” Nova informed, grabbing a hold of Arazel's pinkie and bending it sideways as far as it would go without breaking. “What is so important that you had to send that dog after me?”

Arazel's phlegmatic wavering betrayed no fear on her end. “Fate demanded you needed to be human once again.”

She bent the pinkie in her clutches more, cracking the joint but keeping it intact. “Fate? You speak as if you talk to the Divines themselves.” Arazel's face betrayed her for a split second, just enough for Nova to take notice. “You do, don't you?”

When Arazel didn't answer, the assassin finally snapped the pinkie in a direction it shouldn't be angled at. “No!” the elf cried out.

“So are you a prophet then?” She took hold of the next finger, playing with it softly before bending it back until it was taut.

“It's Meridia,” she whispered, afraid to speak the name loudly in fear of being struck down by herself.

“Meridia...Meridia,” Nova repeated, trying to figure out where she heard that name before. Suddenly, Arturius' voice invaded her head when he told her about sword he possessed. The same one that blinded her. “You are the one who gave him that damn sword, aren't you?”

Not wanting to risk another broken finger, she nodded meekly. “Correct.”

“So a daedra tells you to give this other elf a sword so he can blind me and I would come to you afterward so you can turn me human?”

“Correct,” she whimpered again as fear started to mask her face.

“That is not the part that pisses me off the most...It's the bruises you left on my wife that infuriates me so.” Another crack rang throughout the woods, causing Arazel to scream, begging for her to stop.

“No more,” she pleaded, trying to appeal to Nova's better nature.

“What does Meridia want with me?” she interrogated, squeezing both broken fingers together.

Arazel flinched at the pain, breathing heavier as she tried to focus in order to form words with her tongue. “She needed you. You're the only one who could help, but you could not be one of the undead.” she explained calmly.

“For what?” Nova neither loosened nor tightened her grip on the twisted fingers.

“I can't say...” The phalanges crunched against each other, causing the elf to writhe in pain. “I can't say!” she screamed before Nova released her grip.

“I can make you talk...They always talk,” she threatened, waving the dagger in front of the elf's face. “Now what is going to spill first; your guts or your secrets?”

“I know what you are going to do but to tell you would unravel everything. If I die to protect you, so be it.”

“Protect me?” Nova laughed. “You are a fool if you think you causing me to go blind was to protect me.”

“There always be silver linings woven in even the worst of events.”

“Let's see if you can find the silver linings in this,” Nova said coldly as she brought down the Razor hard into Arazel's thigh, being careful as to not hit any major arteries. The ear piercing shriek clamored through Nova's ears as well as the forest. Her sadistic smile grew as she twisted the knife, opening the wound even more. “I can stop this at any time. Just tell me what I need to hear.”

Arazel grasped her attacker's wrist, trying to get her to stop. “Don't do this...”

“You're the one who is allowing this to continue. Tell me...Now.”

“Nova...” came Ysolda's voice from behind. The assassin froze instantly. “How could you? How could you kill one of the Khajiit with the caravan?”

Nova stood up slowly, turning around to face her heart broken wife. “It wasn't...my – ”

“Wasn't your fault or your idea?!” Ysolda sobbed, covering her mouth in horror. “How could you!?”

“Ysolda...It wasn't personal,” Nova said apologetically. She tried to walk towards her hysterical wife but she took a step back from the killer.

“No! Don't you dare, you monster!” She tore the ring off the chain she wore around her neck, throwing it on the ground.

Nova's heart sank back down in the pit that she felt when Astrid betrayed her and the clan. “I'm so-”

“Don't you dare say it!” Ysolda growled behind the tears. “You just said earlier you have no regrets over what you did.”

Nova studied the figure before her, sensing something is amiss. She reached down to pick up the ring but felt nothing except the soggy ground. She charged at Ysolda who didn't even flinch. Instead, she passed through her like air. The same magic of the other figures previously. “You clever bitch.”

Nova turned around only to see the empty spot where the elf was once cowering. Angry but still impressed at her ingenuity under pressure. The Nord inspected the ground to find any trace of blood but the waterlogged ground left nothing to track.

“You can hide, mage.” She heard a rustling and twigs snapping behind her. “But you cannot run.”

However, out from the tree emerged another person. It was the innkeeper that was cleaning the entrance before earlier. “We heard screaming. Are you okay?”

Not sure if it was another illusion or real, she decided to play with the facade to be safe. She hid the blood stained knife behind her back. “I thought I saw a bear,” Nova said in a startled voice to make it sound convincing. “I was hoping that my scream would scare him away.”

“What are you doing out here? You could have gotten killed!”

Ysolda and a few other villagers appeared as well. “Oh Gods, you're safe! I was so worried,” her red haired lover cried out as she ran towards Nova.

She felt physical contact and knew it wasn't an illusion. “I'm fine,” she said calmly to her wife. “Let's go.” The rest of the villagers were confused over the change of attitude but thought little of it as they all walked back to the village.

“What really happened?” Ysolda whispered, trying her best to not be heard by the search party.

Nova shook her head firmly. “I'll tell you later.”

When they got back on the path, Ysolda clutched her wife's hand tightly, feeling uneasy about what occurred in the forest. Even more so at her wife's silence on the matter. Nova whistled loudly, catching the attention of everyone around her before their focus was averted to the galloping dark horse that made its way towards his master. “We're leaving.” Nova hoisted Ysolda up on Shadowmere, keeping herself on the ground to walk instead.

When they were finally out of earshot of everyone, Ysolda broke the silence. “What was all that about?”

Nova halted, causing her loyal horse to mimic his master's command. “Me and Arazel had a nice talk. I was getting close to her telling me why she did all this,” she said with disappointment.

Ysolda flinched with worry, knowing what she meant by that. “Nothing then?”

“I wouldn't say that. It seems a daedra has a special interest in me. I was trying to get the elf to say why but that was when I got interrupted.”

“Which Daedra?”

“The same one that made that damn sword the hunter's using,” she growled with scorn.

“So Meridia wanted Art-” The glare Nova shot her quickly reminded Ysolda not to speak his name. “I mean, the hunter to kill you?”

“That is the thing...The daedra wanted me to live as a human, but I don't know the reason.”

“She would not tell me either. Said that knowing the future would be to change it,” Ysolda repeated to the best of her ability.

“Anyway, you need to head back home. Shadowmere will take you there faster than any carriage will.”

“W-w-wait!” Ysolda protested. “Where are you going?”

“Back to Dawnstar before it gets dark. I will be home in a few days.” Nova ran her fingers through the dark horse's mane, petting him gently. “Take Ysolda back home.” Shadowmere neighed in response before cantering off down the well traveled road. Nova waved solemnly, watching her wife become smaller in the distance before making her way to her second home.

* * *

The waxing moons glowed over the Dawnguard fort, casting shadows over the winding trail. The scattered watchtowers loomed as well, keeping a safe eye on those who dare intrude. Serana stood close by, unsure of how good of an idea this was.

“I don't like this,” she quetched, keeping a nervous gaze around the fort yard. The vampire stopped before passing the first tower. “I think I should stay until it's safe for me.”

Arturius turned to face her. “Nothing is going to happen to you,” he assured to the best of his ability.

“I know that is what you want to believe, but we still don't know you're in the position to keep me safe yet. I'll wait here until otherwise.”

“I suppose you're right. Who knows what Celann told them.” He gently took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I'll return shortly,” Arturius guaranteed with his wolfish grin.

As the hunter approached the stone steps, Mogrul gave him a grunt of a salutation. “Who's the woman?” the orc asked crudely.

“Possibly our greatest hope against the vampires,” Arturius answered. “Isran awake?”

Mogrul snorted with amusement. “When isn't he? Between you and him, it's a miracle you two don't drop dead from exhaustion.”

Although it was normal for a lycan to be awake for days or even weeks on end, it was strange for a regular human to run off such little sleep like Isran does. Arturius put his hand on the door but stalled opening it. “Did Celann make it back?”

“Of course he did. What do you take him for, a milk drinker? Besides, where is the priest?”

“He went off on his own and got himself killed by a pair of vampires,” Arturius said with a sigh.

“Moron,” Mogrul scoffed heartlessly before sitting back down on the ledge, humming a warsong.

Arturius pushed the heavy doors open, causing the hinges to creak. Before he could even shut them, Isran's voice thundered through the stone halls. “Lieutenant.”

“Sir.” Arturius took to standing formation.

“Celann told me of some disturbing things that I hope are not true,” the commander said as he marched towards the elf.

“Depends on what he said,” Arturius spoke, keeping himself calm.

Isran's hot breath wafted on his face, his eyes burning deep. “That you saved a vampire and left Tolan to die?”

“Tolan ran off on his own after we got into an argument,” Arturius defended. “He knew the risks and died.”

The bald and bearded leader strafed circles around reserved elf. “And you let a vampire attack Celann, then took its side after you abandoned him too?”

“The details are greatly exaggerated, sir.” Arturius kept his hands folded behind his back, remaining adamant.

The Dawnguard leader stopped in front of Arturius. “Then you tell me what the hell happened in that cave that caused one to die, one to desert his superior, and for the superior to show up a day later!” Isran bellowed, demanding the other side of the story.

“We discovered what was in the cave,” Arturius began. “There was an ancient vampire that was hidden there. She knows of a cult of vampires that are trying to bring about the end of days.”

“Okay?” Isran replied, not impressed with what he was told. “So why did you let it live?”

“Because she could be the key to stopping their plan.”

“Oh, it wants to help us stop vampires? That's amazing,” Isran jeered. “I would rather die than accept its help.”

Arturius was getting more agitated with his leader using the wrong pronoun. “Believe it or not, she knows more about this than any of us. Serana tol-”

“So now it has a name?” The angry Redguard grabbed Arturius by the hair, jerking his head from side to side. “No bite marks,” he said before letting go of the handful of hair.

“Could have just asked,” the hunter said, scratching his scalp.

Isran ignored the comment as he continued with his questioning. “So why did you let it live?”

“I honestly was about to kill her when I discovered what she was. However, I was interrupted a trio of other blood suckers. I managed to kill two of them but the third one got the drop on me. It was Serana that killed him before he could do so with me.”

“It saved you from other vampires?” Isran started to laugh at the absurd notion. “That's a load of horse shit.”

“I was just as surprised as you are now, sir,” Arturius confessed.

“So then explain to me why it took you an extra day to get your ass back down here.”

Not wanting to go into details about Nova and the following act that happened later that night, he kept it brief. “After traveling for so long, we decided to get some rest at Dawnstar.”

“We? So you've been traveling with the creature this who-” Isran stopped in mid-sentence. The vein in his forehead started to pulsate as he grabbed Arturius by the collar of his armor. “You didn't bring her here, did you?!”

“You need to hear wha-”

Isran swung the elf against the wall, pinning him against the stone. Even though he was a good head shorter than Arturius, he managed to lift the elf's feet from the ground. “You brought it here?!”

The Dunmer kept his cool, trying to be the voice of reason in this dispute. “Serana knows about what is happening. More than you ever will. Listen to what she has to say.”

“You are but a damned fool! She only said those things to find out where we are and launch an assault against us!” Isran released his steel grip, making Arturius fall to the ground. “You're hereby stripped of rank until further notice,” he said asserted before heading walking out the ajar doors.

Mogrul heard everything easily, putting the pieces together on the woman who sat out on the castle grounds. “Commander...I think that is the vampire he brought here,” the orc mentioned, pointing a finger at Serana.

Isran stared off into the distance, seeing the woman standing nonchalantly. He spat on the ground in disgust at the very idea of a vampire being on such hallowed grounds. “Follow my lead,” he ordered the orc as they walked over to where the vampire stood. “So...Arturius said you know something important about what has been going on.”

Serana stiffened up, sensing something wrong with his tone of voice. “Where is he?”

“I just wanted to talk to you personally, seeing how much you can help our cause is all,” Isran said with a smile. He held out his hand as a gesture of greeting.

The dark haired vampire took a step away, shaking her head at the offer. “You're lying,” she accused, ready to run away as fast as possible.

Both the hunters quickly sprang into action after their facade failed. Mogrul withdrew the crossbow from his hip as Isran took the warhammer off his back.

“Don't move!” the bearded Redguard ordered.

Serana held her hands up in surrender, not wanting to risk getting shot with a bolt. “I knew he couldn't be of any help,” she sighed depressingly at the letdown.

Mogrul started to laugh heavily. “We are not going to let you tell the other freaks where we are,” he threatened, keeping the crossbow poised at her heart.

Before Isran could take her prisoner, Arturius rushed between the vampire and his fellow hunters. “What in the hell are you doing?” he demanded of his commander.

“Same thing could be said of you,” Isran growled, gripping his weapon tight with shaking hands.

“Were you planning to just kill her?! Did you not hear a damn thing I said to you?!”

“Learn your place, Private.” The sting of the demotion hit Arturius. “This animal will not help us except to an early grave. I didn't manage to stay alive by trusting the enemy!”

“Tell me then, Isran. What are the vampires planning? Who is leading them? How are they going about it?” The elf bombarded his commander with questions he knew nothing about.

“The only thing those creatures do is just feed and kill,” he blatantly stated.

Serana rested her hand on Arturius' shoulder causing him to step aside. She stood next to the elf, shaking her head at Isran. “If that is what you think is happening, you could not be more wrong. We are talking about the end of life as you know it.”

Mogrul raised the crossbow to her face which had little effect on her preservation. However, Arturius reacted quickly, swinging his metal clad forearm upwards to knock the weapon out from his hands. It clattered on the ground without letting loose the bolt. “Did you not hear what she just said?”

Isran's arms twitched with ire. “This is an act of treason and you will be punished for consorting with the enemy. Now get out of the way while I still have the idea of sparing your life.”

“No one's life will be spared if you kill her.” Because the shield was on his back, Arturius knew he had no time to raise it. Instead, he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, letting his commander know he is willing to fight for her.

Isran nodded to Mogrul. “Sound the horn.”

“No!” Arturius yelled, trying to stop the orc from signaling the distress alarm. However, a hard swing from Isran's hammer knocked him down on his back. The steel plating protected his ribcage from being pulverized into fragments. He gasped hard with each breath, trying to recover from the impact. Then the horn echoed throughout the canyon walls.

Before Serana could assist the excommunicated hunter, Isran charged at the distraught woman. He pressed the handle of his warhammer against her throat, pinning her against the rock face. “Break the spell you have over him. Now!”

The wooden shaft against her throat made it difficult for her to talk. “There's...no...spell,” Serana gagged, trying to pull the handle off her airway.

Before anything else could be done, a company of Dawnguard charged out of the fort in battle formation. They immediately surrounded Serana, readying their steel against their prey.

“Stop,” Arturius gasped, clutching his chest.

Isran pulled the weapon from Serana's neck. “Take it and this traitor away,” he ordered, watching with disappointment over his best soldier falling from such a high ranking position. “Such a waste.”

Serana offered no resistance over being shackled and chained while Arturius struggled against his brothers in arms. It took a man for each limb to hold him down and get the restraints on their former second in command.

Arturius was hoisted up, glaring with brimstone in his eyes at Isran. However, he affixed his attention to the hunter behind him who was sneering with a smile of insult. “I told you this would happen,” Celann boasted, rubbing salt into the wound.

Arturius responded by launching a gob of saliva at him in kind. Baring his teeth, Celann drew his fist back and hit the elf square in the jaw. Even with the metal gauntlet, Arturius barely flinched despite his bleeding lip. “That all you got?” he taunted with a bloody smile.

“Stop!” Serana cried out before he could assault him more.

Isran grabbed her by the hair, causing her to wince. “This is none of your concern, monster,” Isran growled, looking into the watery eyes of his prey.

“You kill me, you kill just one vampire. You kill the leader who is planning to bring eternal darkness and you will save everyone,” she repeated, trying to get it into their thick heads.

“You're lying,” the commander spat, uninterested in anything she had to say.

“You call yourself the Dawnguard, yet you would do nothing to prevent the light of day from being extinguished?”

“Why would you complain about such a thing? Sounds like your paradise,” Mogrul scoffed, causing the other hunters to nod in agreement.

“I came here in the belief that you could help stop this from happening. Instead, you are clouded so much by hate, you would rather kill me than save your kind.” Serana hoped her words could pierce through the veil and reach the better judgment of everyone. However, no one was willing to hear her out.

“Prep them both for execution,” Isran said coldly before turning away to head back to the fort.

Everyone including Celann took to shock at the order for Arturius. The elf however, not so much and would have been more surprised if Isran hadn't. “You're a disgrace,” he said to his former leader.

Isran responded with a hit to the gut from his hammer, causing Arturius to fall to his feet. “Come morning, it will be all over for you.”

As two of the warriors started to drag Arturius to be imprisoned, Serana would not budge. “Move it,” Mogrul demanded, pulling on the chain to her cuffs. She didn't even stumble forward despite the orc yanking on the metal links.

“I am not going anywhere with the likes of you.” Serana's voice went from subtle and alluring to something otherworldly. It was more beast than of a human. Her eyes became a shade of red that matched Arturius' but glowed with power. She snapped the iron shackles that bound her wrists like they were paper, catching everyone by surprise.

Mogrul shot an arrow at her chest. In a flash, she caught the arrow and snapped it in half. Serana's hands became claws as her skin started to become leathery and dark. Wings like a bat shot out of her shoulders, tearing apart her clothes. Isran charged at the monstrosity forming before them but was knocked away as if she were brushing a fly off. Several of the hunters lunged at her with steel swords, spears, and axes, ready to give their lives to cut down the horror before them.

Arturius stared at the creature, not even seeing anything that resembled Serana. Instead, he watched as over a dozen men were flung around like sacks of flour. The hammer that Isran used in all of his fighting was snapped like a twig. Celann was too paralyzed to move along with a few others. The orc swung his hand axe at the threat that now stood taller than Arturius. It grabbed him by the wrist and threw him back into the crowd, causing everyone to fall down.

The creature stood triumphant, although no one was killed. Only Celann stood standing, dropping his weapon to the ground. “This is what a true vampire is, not what you have been fighting!” Serana shouted over the hunters.

The entire troop of warriors were too mortified to speak, even Isran. Serana took a deep breath, causing her wings to recede back inside her. Her leather dark skin now returning back to its porcelain tone and her claws looking human once again. However, her clothes were tattered about that left little to the imagination. Serana used one arm to cover her chest in case of a wardrobe malfunction which was bound to happen.

“You're an abomination,” Isran said, still knocked on his back.

Serana took him by the collar with her free hand and lifted him back up on his feet. “I could have killed all of you. Keep that in mind. Now uncuff him,” she ordered, pointing a finger at Arturius.

No one moved except for those who stood up from off the cold ground. They all waited for Isran to give a command. “Fine,” he agreed reluctantly, tossing the vampire the keys.

She knelt down behind Arturius who has yet to say a word since she transformed into the beast that lurked beneath the beautiful woman. She could tell he was scared of the power she wielded with the way his heart raced. Serana was rather impressed though with how calm he made himself to be as compared to the others who wore their fear on their sleeves.

“Are you okay?” she asked, helping him back on his feet.

It hurt for Arturius to breathe so he just nodded in response. He looked down on the cracked chest plate, knowing he will have to painstakingly reforge the armor.

“It's a shame,” Serana addressed everyone but kept her focus on Isran. “All I wanted was for you to hear me out. You couldn't even manage a simple conversation like a civil man.”

“After showing your true face, there is no chance in Oblivion we will ever work for someone like you.” Everyone else around Isran agreed as well.

“I was able to defeat all of you without so much as batting an eyelash. Ask yourselves this...What chance do you have at stopping someone even stronger than me?”

Murmurs traded between the group, most of disbelief or of hopelessness in the matter. Others with rage over the fact that they could not even beat one vampire. Arturius could see why she said that even he did not have a chance earlier. He could take on a few of the recruits and struggle but not more than a dozen as if they just pests. He was not sure if he should be impressed with how strong she was or scared how easy it would be to kill him.

Serana started to walk away from the broken group, her tattered clothes flapping in the breeze. Arturius looked at all his comrades with disappointment. Not because of they could not take on a single vampire but for not listening to reason and now losing someone two people who could have helped out immensely with a conflict that even they don't know about.

As Arturius started to follow the vampire, Isran grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him. “You leave with that creature and you will be hunted down just like any other vampire. You understand?”

“Weren't you the one who ordered my execution come morning light?” the ex-Dawnguard member sassed as he jerked his shoulder from Isran's hold.

“Choosing to side with the enemy warrants such action.”

“If she were the enemy, all of you would have been dead,” Arturius assured, leaving them with something to think about before catching up to Serana.

“Don't ever step foot near this fort again or you are going to regret every minute of your life afterward!” Isran shouted, making the sycophants around him cheer in agreement. The advice Arturius gave them seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“You didn't have to follow me, Arturius,” the vampire said with a tone of thankfulness and praise.

“Rather be with a good vampire than evil hunters. If they cannot even try to see reason and prefer to just kill first, I want nothing to do with them.”

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Serana asked to make sure it was not out of obligation.

Arturius shrugged but gave a contradicting nod. “Little late now to change my mind, isn't it?”

“I suppose so,” Serana agreed. She felt a warm and rough hand slide against her palm, smiling at Arturius when their fingers interlaced together.

Together, they went through the pass in the canyon wall, going into the murky cavern. Serana led the way since no one kept the torches lit as usual. However, before they reached the other side, there was a flicker of luminance around the corner. Arturius gripped the hilt of his sword just in case.

A young, clean shaven man was taken by surprise at the iron clad elf and the woman in torn garments. “Oh excuse me. I thought this was the way to Dawnguard,” he said sheepishly.

“It's back there,” Arturius exclaimed, throwing a thumb behind his shoulder.

“Oh, thank you!” he gleefully conveyed but removed his smile when he saw Serana. “Are you okay?”

“Just on my way to get some new clothes.”

“Are you two with the Dawnguard? I've been meaning to join them for quite some time but didn't know where it was,” he chuckled nervously.

“I was,” Arturius answered, keeping it brief as he passed the young man to exit the mountain pass.

The blonde man walked the other way towards where Arturius pointed but stopped once the duo were out of sight. He stood with his arms folded across his chest. “So much for that plan. Guess we'll do it Nova's way.” Triunn sighed.

 


	16. Lost in the Fog

When Serana looked up into the night sky, the stars shimmered like dew in a spider's web. Her focus was broken upon noticing Arturius walking up north. Even though she has never been this far away from home, she knew the closest hold wasn't toward the way the elf was heading. “Isn't Riften the opposite way?” the confused vampire asked, pointing over her shoulder.

“Yeeeah,” he drawled with slight embarrassment, scratching the back of his neck. “I am not exactly allowed to step foot there anymore.”

“You just keep getting kicked out everywhere, don't you?” Serana said, shaking her head. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him towards Riften. “However, I have my ways.”

Arturius tried to pull his wrist from her grip but to no avail. “Wait! You can't!”

Serana didn't listen as she walked up to the main gate with but a single guard at the entrance. “Sorry, gate's closed due to curfew,” he plainly stated behind his full faced helmet.

“Please let us in,” Serana purred, letting out her inner vixen. “It's cold and I need new clothes.”

“I...Of course. You need new clothes,” he repeated as he turned to open the gates to the town of thieves.

“Thank you so much,” she flirted, dragging a tantalizing finger under his chin as the two of them walked by.

“Women are so lucky they can do that,” Arturius mumbled gruelingly.

“Has little to do with me being a woman.” She turned around to face the elf. Her eyes started to glow strangely, relaxing the hunter. “Stand on one leg.”

“Stand on one leg,” Arturius repeated the command and did as he was told. Her irises shifted back to their normal amber color and smiled at the posing Dunmer. Arturius stumbled, almost falling over. “What in the hell was that?” he demanded, feeling a slight headache.

“Now you know.” Serana gave a twisted smile of pleasure. “Vampires are very...charming, to say the least.”

“I thought that was just a myth.”

“There's usually a hidden truth behind such stories.”

Arturius rubbed his forehead, trying to relieve the dulling pain in his head. “Could have just told me.”

“Now where is the fun in that?” Serana's seductive grin made it hard to stay mad at her. She looked down at her tattered clothes, trying to make sure nothing provocative is exposed. “I need to get something else to wear.”

“We might have to wait till tomorrow,” he suggested, looking up at the twin midnight moons. “Doubt any shop is open this late.”

“The inn it is then,” Serana said, leading the way.

Arturius followed nervously, seeing the gawks of the night patrol staring at him. When they entered through the double doors, all eyes were on them. Mostly her for the way she looked. However, Arturius took notice at the fuming red headed man.

“You've got a lot of nerve coming here, lad,” Brynjolf said with agitation, raising from his bar stool. “You were told not to come back here.”

Before Arturius could say anything, Serana interjected. “This man just saved me from a pack of bandits! Have some respect for this hero!” she yelled.

Brynjolf took a single look at the woman, wondering what happened. However, he brushed it off as he walked up to the elf. “You really are pushing your luck here.”

“Didn't have a choice in the matter,” he replied, following the vampire's lead.

“We'll be gone as soon as I find some suitable clothes,” Serana added, hoping to appease the man without having to resort to her hypnosis.

“I am not a tailor,” the thief said, finishing off the rest of his mead before ordering another. “But you can stay until you get what's needed, lass.”

Arturius placed some gold on the counter. “One night,” he requested to the Argonian innkeeper.

The reptilian claw scooped up the coins. “Certainly,” she hissed, slithering her tongue. “First door on the right.” She pointed to the stairs that led up to the room.

Arturius walked behind Serana, blocking the wandering eyes of the bar patrons from ogling the woman's curves under the torn clothes. When he shot a look at the perverts, they quickly turned their heads, pretending to be innocent. She paid little mind as she made her way up the stairs. They reached the first door to the right and again, was met with but a single bed. It was at least bigger than the ones in Dawnstar.

“That's only thing I hate about being a vampire...It's so boring at night when everyone is asleep and there's no shops open,” Serana pouted.

“I know what you mean,” Arturius comforted, shutting the door behind him. He propped his shield against it before sitting next to Serana. After what happened with Nova sneaking in the last time, he wanted to make sure no one could repeat that without causing a ruckus.

“Must get pretty bored being up for days at a time,” Serana almost sympathized.

“At times. I keep myself occupied the best I can.”

Serana tried to stifle a yawn to keep herself awake. Her eyelids felt like sandbags and with each blink, they kept getting heavier. “I need to fix my sleep pattern. I can't be awake all day and sleep the nights away.” The exhausted woman fell onto the soft, feather filled bed.

“Take as much rest as you need. We can get you some new clothes whenever you wake up tomorrow.” Arturius glanced over at Serana. He was still in awe over how powerful a creature was hidden inside her. It made his beast form look like a pup playing fetch.

Serana caught him staring. “What is it?”

“Just amazes me how much stronger you are than me, yet you got scared the other night when I got mad over...Yeah.” He didn't have to finish the sentence for her to know what he meant. The Dunmer still felt guilty over seeing the beauty before him cowering in fear that night.

“Doesn't matter how strong I am physically. It's the strength of heart, right?” she said, curling up in the fetal position.

“Aye.” Arturius gave a nod as he rested a gentle hand on Serana to comfort her. She squeezed it gently and gave a weakened smile.”Nothing like that will happen as long as I am around.”

“Do you mean with your temper or with how I was turned?”

“Both.”

Serana shook her head. “Don't say things like that,” she requested. “Did not exactly work out in our favor with the Dawnguard.”

“Yeah...I know.” The corner of Arturius' mouth twitched. “I let you down on that one.”

“No...They let you down,” Serana assured, caressing the elf's cheek. She traced his jawline, causing him to close his eyes at the affectionate touches. His worries were already starting to be forgotten.

He looked down at the exhausted vampire and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “You should get some rest,” Arturius suggested before heading towards the door.

Serana took offense to her ignored advances. “Where are you going?” she scowled.

“I need a drink.” He set the shield against the wall before turning the knob.

“Hmph...” Serana grunted before rolling over to the other side of the bed. “Have fun.”

“Do you...umm...need anything?” Arturius asked, unsure of why she was upset.

“I'm fine,” she mumbled as she stared at the wall.

The elf bit his bottom lip uneasily, confused over her change in behavior. Not wishing to over think the matter, he bounded down the stairs to the noisy tavern. Drinks were clattering together in toasts, shouting of both mirth and disagreements. It reminded Arturius of when he and his fellow Companions would take to the tavern at Whiterun and run the ale dry.

A loud thud of someone falling along with a chair made Arturius turn around to see what it was. A fairly large and bald Nord was cheering then took a huge swig of his drink. “Who's next?!” he challenged with a shout.

The elf looked with interest over what he was celebrating over. Then an Imperial man walked up and grabbed the fallen chair from off the floor to sit in.

“Me,” he said with confidence, resting his elbow on the table.

The larger male wiped the foam of the drink from his mouth. He slammed his elbow on the table, almost causing it to break. “Fitty septims.”

The other man accepted the challenge and placed a pouch of coins next to their arms. The two gripped each other's hands as a bar wrench counted down for them. As soon as she gave the signal, both of them tensed up, trying to bring the other arm down. It did not take very long for the Imperial to get his hand slammed down. The bald one grabbed the sack of coins and smiled, ordering another round of drinks for himself.

“Get outta here,” he jeered, laughing at the man who lost.

“No one can beat the captain of the guard!” one of the patrons shouted, causing everyone else to cheer in agreement.

“Damn straight!” When the maiden brought the tray of drinks, he slipped some of the coins down the front of her dress and slapped her ass. The embarrassed woman wasn't too shocked as she was used to such crass behavior from the captain.

Arturius walked up to the merry gathering and stirred up silence as he sat down across from the unbeaten arm wrestler. “Fifty septims right?”

“An elf?” the man howled with laughter, almost choking on his drink. “Get the fuck outta here.”

“How about we make this interesting then?” he grinned, setting down an even larger amount of coin than the loser before. “Double it up.”

The Nord scratched his rough shaven face, smiling at the deal. “You're on!”

Arturius shook off his gauntlet along with the metal bracers that protected his forearm. He rotated his shoulder to make sure he had enough range of motion and to loosen up his stiff joint. They both put their elbows on the table, sizing each other up. Their hands clapped together, silencing the whole bar as everyone watched. Outside bets were made as well among the drinkers.

“Ready?” the bar maiden asked. When both men nodded, she slammed the table with her palm. “Go!”

Arturius was caught off guard at how much the furious Nord pushed. The elf's arm was halfway down before he pushed back to even up again. He was going to have to work to win this bet. Arturius gripped harder, the veins in his arm bulging with strain but was seeing results as the Nord struggled against him.

No matter how much he pushed back, the captain's failing resistance started to give way to the domineering Dunmer before him. Finally, Arturius slammed his opponent's hand down on the table, stunning everyone with silence. The captain stood up and threw the table to the side, spilling all the gold coins on the ground. Even though it was a town of thieves and corruption abroad, no one dared to steal from either the captain or someone would could beat him.

“You cheatin' elf! I know you used magic!”

“I know of some healing magic but I don't think it will do anything for your bruised ego,” Arturius chuckled.

The Nord's eyes widened with rage then swung a heavy fist at his contender. However, Arturius was anticipating such an action and kicked the man's feet from under him, causing him to stumble into another table. Angry customers yelled as their drinks were spilled and their finger food ruined. Before things got out of hand, Brynjolf intervened.

“That's it for tonight, Gunthur. Go home before you get seriously hurt.” The captain got up and shoved people out of the way as he stomped towards the exit. The red haired man stooped down and gathered up the septims on the ground before handing it to Arturius.

The elf gave a nod of respect as he accepted his prize money. “Thanks.”

“You always cause this much trouble where you go?”

“Did I do something wrong this time?”

“Considering I was the only one who bet on you, not at all,” Brynjolf grinned from ear to ear, holding up a heavy sack filled with coin. “Almost feel bad for earning more than you even though you did all the work...Almost.”

“Glad to be so service.” Although Arturius was jealous over the thief earning ten times as much, it was more for the challenge than anything.

While everyone was putting the tables back where they were and going back to their merriment, the doors busted open with a bloodied Gunthur with claw marks on his face.

“Vampires...” he gasped before collapsing heavily. His back was mauled; a pair of ribs were protruding from near his spine.

Without hesitation, everyone immediately took up arms. Brynjolf took out a long, gleaming sword and a dagger. Most people had the typical single weapon but Arturius left his gear upstairs. Before anyone could make their move outside, the hunter stopped them.

“Wait!” he shouted with authority. “I am with the Dawnguard. Don't go out there yet until I say so!”

Although people protested, Brynjolf went with his gut instinct. Even though he never liked the elf, he did have respect for him. “What are you gonna do, lad?”

Arturius bent down to put on the metal glove and bracer. “Let me grab my sword and shield. Don't leave!” he shouted, running up the stairs, taking three at a time. He almost broke open the door, startling Serana. Without a word, he quickly grabbed his most trusted sword and shield.

“What's going on?” Serana worried.

“Vampire raid. Stay here!” he quickly answered before charging out of the room.

He leaped down the steps, only touching two of them before reaching the bottom. Everyone in the tavern stared with worry and fear at the elf, wondering what is going to happen. Arturius quickly made his way towards the front to lead.

“Are any of you mages?” the hunter asked.

Everyone shook their head except one other man. “What kind of magic?” he spoke up, making everyone clear the way between the two.

“You know any good fire spells?”

“Tis my specialty,” he stated, creating a simple ball of fire in the palm of his hand. “Burn them all, I take it?”

Arturius nodded before addressing the rest of the makeshift warriors. “If you are going to stab one, go for the heart or lop off their head. Otherwise, they will keep coming.”

“Anything else?” Brynjolf asked, clutching his weapons tight.

“Yeah...When this is all over, first round’s on you,” Arturius said before rushing out the door with the rest of the townsfolk following behind.

There were about a dozen of the blood suckers. Two of them were tearing apart a guard, ripping him to shreds. Arturius quickly withdrew his blade and charged in with reckless abandon. Even though he was swinging his sword wildly, it was effective as he chopped down the vermin before him. With one clean sweep, he decapitated one and almost did it to another. His throat was opened enough to kill him though. The mage behind him was launching streams of fire, torching one to cinders. The burnt flesh seared as the creature screamed.

Arturius watched in horror as one of the townsfolk had a vampire catch her from behind. His fangs were already buried deep into her neck, tearing off a chunk of her flesh. The elf drove his glowing blade hard into his dagger filled mouth. He ripped it downwards, severing his jaw from the rest of his head. He gurgled up blood as it bubbled from his face. Arturius then gave him a killing blow both out of mercy and of rage as he pierced the creature's heart.

Shouting and screaming clamored through the town now turned battlefield. Brynjolf was dancing between vampires, a whirlwind of slashes and parries. He spun with deadly purpose and agility, taking out any attackers that drew near. He glided through the bodies and kept going. Arturius backed him up, providing a shield wall. Together, they funneled the vampires toward the town entrance with the fire from the mage stopping any would-be advances from flanking. Their numbers went from over a dozen to four. The creatures immediately retreated, rushing out through the town gates. The mage threw a large fireball at the cowards. He ended up hitting one, causing him to burst into flames. He disintegrated into a pile of ash almost instantly. The other three managed to get away, disappearing into the night.

Arturius looked around to see all the carnage left in their wake, seeing bodies of the residents butchered beyond recognition. The urge to tear into them and eat their hearts was overwhelming. At least they were dead and didn't need them anymore. Before he could give into the temptation, the sorcerer started to incinerate all the undead to ashes for good measure. Arturius looked over the woman that died in front of him. Her eyes were still widened in horror and her mouth open to scream. He stroked her face to shut her eyes so she could sleep peacefully.

“Fucking monsters,” Brynjolf uttered, wiping the gory residue from his sword. He glanced over at Arturius and frowned at the victim he was looking over. “Gods...Not her.”

“Who was she?” Arturius asked, already referring her in past tense.

“She was the one looking over the children in the orphanage after the previous caretaker was killed a couple years back. Constance was always there for them...” Brynjolf sighed heavily at the loss before giving a silent prayer in respect.

“I remember hearing about Grelod the Kind. I would like to shake the hand of whoever did such a favor.”

“You had a chance a few days ago,” Brynjolf chuckled, smiling at the irony.

Arturius was ready to ask what he meant by that when it hit him like a charging mammoth. “Wait... _Her?”_

The red headed Nord nodded to his inquiry. “Nova's not the evil, sadistic lass you think she is. Well...Not entirely anyway.”

“She went so far as to kill the emperor,” Arturius exclaimed, keeping his tone low as to evade prying ears.

“And sexual predators, old women that beat orphans, and addicts that would sell their mother for some more skooma. Pretty much, all's fair in her book. Even you could hire her for such deals if you so desire.”

“I would never dare such a thing,” Arturius spat.

Brynjolf huffed at the self righteous elf and started to help the survivors of the onslaught move the bodies to the hall of the dead for the undertaker to prepare. Arturius assisted as well, carrying Constance down to the catacombs. Again, the beast blood inside desired the still fresh heart. It was getting harder to banish such thoughts sober and there was only one way to still the call of the hunt: a lot of food and a lot of booze.

After all had been accounted for, Arturius could sense the sorrow and fury boiling in the hearts of the survivors. One woman was sharpening her sword at the forge, vowing retribution. One of the guards was curled up against the walls of the tavern in a state of shock. He understood the way each of them felt.

The blood stains from the captain he beat in the arm wrestling contest were still apparent. Probably permanent, along with the other ones from various spilled drinks and blood from past arguments resolved in a primitive manner. Arturius ordered the biggest drink the bar had, enough to get a small gathering of friends tipsy. The Argonian male brought the pitcher forth and shook his head at the request.

“Don't get too wasted.”

Arturius scoffed and grabbed the pitcher like he would a mug and started to gulp down the frothy beverage. The hint of jazbay grapes made him smack his lips, appreciating the sweet aftertaste. Before the elf could set his heavy drink down, Brynjolf snuck his way across the vacant chair across the table.

“I never got to say thanks for helping us out like that. We would have lost a lot more people if it wasn't for you.”

“No need,” Arturius replied as he poured some of the mead into an empty stein.

Brynjolf gave thanks again as he sipped on his beverage. “I know we are on opposite sides of the law and what we consider good and evil...But still.” The thief slid a huge pouch of coins across the table, enough to get the both of them trashed on ale for the next week. “Half the earnings from the wager before. Figure it's the least I could do.”

“As kind of a gesture that is, I must decline. I didn't help out for money. It was just the right thing to do.” The Dunmer pushed the sack of coins back to the Nord.

“Your loss then.” Although insulted at the refusal of such a generous gift, Brynjolf understood. “So who is the lass you saved?”

“That's it. Just someone I saved,” Arturius vaguely said, nursing on his drink some more.

The redhead leaned in close to whisper. “Is she connected with the attack that just happened?”

The elf almost choked on his drink. “What?! No!” He tried to keep his panic under control as he thought Brynjolf linked Serana being a vampire.

“So those bandits that attacked her...You didn't know if they were the same group that assaulted the town?”

“Oh...” Arturius relaxed. “They could have been. I don't know. I hope I didn't lead them here.” Although he was trying to cover up who Serana was, he wasn't lying about the last part. He did question if they were vampires connected to Serana.

“Meh...” Brynjolf shrugged. “Vampires as of late have been getting more risky for some reason. They scarce need a reason to attack anymore.” He finished off the rest of his mug hastily before getting up. “Thanks for the drink. If you go to the Pawned Prawn, tell him I sent you. You'll get a discount on the clothes you need for the lass.”

“Will do.” Arturius stared at the half empty vessel. That was one of downsides towards being a creature of the moon. Takes a lot to get drunk and even more to stay that way. Before, it would usually only take a few mugs to feel woozy and a couple more after to be stumbling over chairs. A pitcher now might as well be a shot but ten times the price. However, it was the only way to drown out the call for blood.

The elf finished off the rest of his drink rather quickly, much to the amusement of others who didn't think he would be able to. When Arturius stood up, he could feel a slight head rush. The ale was hitting him a little harder than expected which was better than the desire to tear open one's ribcage for the treat inside. Still, he was able to make it up the stairs without stumbling. He did, however, have troubles opening the door. After clumsily trying to find the handle in the dark, the door opened from the other side. Serana stood in front of Arturius, her arms still covering the skin that was exposed from the torn clothing.

“Hey, Serana,” Arturius slurred, letting out a belch.

The vampire covered her nose, thoroughly disgusted with his breath and manners. “That's disgusting.”

“You missed all the fun outside!”

“I didn't feel like running out there, half naked,” Serana groaned, still offended by the hunter's mannerisms. “Besides, I do not think those vampires knew of my presence here. If I went out there to help, they would have discovered me and then we would be in a bigger mess than we are now.”

“Pfft...” Arturius scoffed, laughing at her concern. “It's fine, darlin'.” He then staggered into the room with drunken grace. He dropped his shield which broke one of the planks of the floor without care. “Whoops,” he said, laughing like a hyena.

Serana pinched the bridge of her nose between her eyes, already fed up with Arturius' crude behavior. “Go sleep somewhere else tonight. I don't care where.” She turned her back towards him, approaching the bed.

“The hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” She paused, taking in a deep breath. “My problem is someone who is so drunk that he does not even realize how much of an ass he is making himself to be. I barely even recognize you.” Serana still kept her back towards Arturius, not wishing to look at him in this state.

“Well soooorry,” the slob elf bellowed, making ostentatious gestures with his hands.

The woman's eyes twitched, anger washing over them. She turned to face the drunken elf she once admired but was quickly waning. The soft shade of delicate amber now brazen with furious crimson. “Get out,” Serana growled with contempt.

“Yeah, yeah...Fuckin' heard ya the first time, yo-”

Serana shoved him out and slammed the door before Arturius could finish saying something he would regret for the rest of his life. “Drunken buffoon,” she muttered under her breath before returning to the empty bed. She curled up in the sheets, sniffling quietly. A single tear found its way out of her glassy eyes. She saw a side of the elf she hoped that would never rear its ugly face again. She buried her face in the pillows, trying to muffle any cries from escaping the walls of the room.

Arturius found his way outside, looking up at the starlit sky. The smell of blood was still prominent in the air. “Can't even enjoy once lousy drink,” he grumbled, dragging his feet as he walked. He looked up ahead to see the orphanage where he grew up and ran away from. He always tried to keep his mind astray from thoughts of the past but seeing the woman who cared for the parentless children being mutilated stirred up the memories.

A guard stationed over Honorhall Orphanage stared back at the drunken elf. “Hitting the ale a bit too much, elf?”

“Not enough, if ya ask me,” Arturius chuckled.

“Well, dun cause any disturbance or you can sleep yer buzz off in the cells.”

“Yeah, yeah. No need'a that,” Arturius waved before heading back towards the tavern. “Not like there's any fresh air ta enjoy.”

When he reached for the door handle, it was too elusive as someone else was opening it. Brynjolf looked at the mess of an elf before him. He never knew his eyes could manage to be bloodshot. “Gods, lad. You smell something foul. The hell rotgut you been hitting?”

“Wha'eva they have to offa,” Arturius said almost unintelligibly when he tried to walk past the thief. Instead, he ended up walking into the other door.

“You need to go lay down.”

“Well, I would but tha damn woman kicked me out. Ungrateful wench.”

“Gee...I cannot imagine why.” The redhaired Nord looked down at the sloppy drunk and almost felt sorry for him. “Come on. You can sleep down here with us tonight.” He draped the elf's thick arm over his shoulder to help his walk straight.

When Brynjolf passed by the stairs that lead to the Ratway, Arturius was confused but didn't question it. They went to the small graveyard hidden in the back behind the temple. The thief approached a mausoleum. When he went to reach for a dangling chain, Arturius suddenly belched, following by splashing vomit all along the ground. The hunter then became dead weight as he collapsed next to the puddle of ale and bile.

“Damned elves can never hold their liquor,” the Nord sighed. He propped him up against the stone wall of the crypt, struggling due to Arturius' body frame and the added weight of his armor. He was already snoring, indicating that he wasn't going to asphyxiate on his alcohol soaked puke. Brynjolf pulled the chain and the stone coffin creaked as it moved backwards to open up a hidden passageway to the guild.

“Sleep well, you damned fool.”

* * *

Shadowmere never stopped his quick but steady pace. It would have normally taken a carriage ride almost a whole day to go from Morthal to Ysolda's home near Riften. This demonic horse cut that time in barely an hour. Ysolda did not have much experience with riding horses but Nova trusted this one. It made it easier for her to do as well. She slipped off the black horse, petting his nose softly. Shadowmere let out a snort before walking over to the small, man made pond that Nova paid to have constructed just for him. As the horse drank deeply from the waters, Ysolda rested her hand on the door, seeing the veins of blue course their way through the wood until it opened up for her.

Ysolda staggered sleepily into the dark entrance hall that welcomed her. Normally, she would have a candle lit to help guide her in but she was without such assistance. She felt along the wall to guide her but the moonlight from the open door helped her out. A door that should have shut on its own. A shadow moved in front of Ysolda, causing her to spin around. Two pairs of glowing red eyes met hers. The Nord tried to scream but a clawed hand with a wet rag covered her mouth. She started to gag at the stench that made her eyes water in attempt to put out the burning feeling in her face. Then everything faded as she collapsed into the intruder's arms.

* * *

When the Listener awoke, she was still weary. A restful slumber was out of her grasp the whole night for some strange reason. She blew it off as just being used to sleeping further south where the temperature was mildly warmer as compared to being this far north near the Sea of Ghosts. Nova trudged over into her personal lavatory where she pumped water from the spigot into her solid ebony tub. The water came from a natural underground spring that encompassed the underground asylum, keeping any frost and chill at bay. The pale haired Nord grabbed a vial of lavender extract and poured a little bit in before stepping into the relaxing bathwater. The bliss from the heated water almost made her fall asleep. A knock on the door intruded on such desire.

“What?” Nova demanded sternly.

“Permission to come in, Listener?” squeaked an unfamiliar male voice.

“Only if it's important,” she groaned in reply.

A few seconds went by, making Nova wonder if the initiate was trying to figure out if it was or not. The door then opened up to a man in a half mask, showing off only his dull, brown eyes.

“Oh!” he gasped with surprise at the naked leader. He immediately averted his gaze towards the floor with embarrassment. “I didn't...umm...Apologies, Listener.”

“Out with it already,” Nova said coldly as she kept her chest under the surface of the bubbly water.

The man stammered, unsure of what to say. “I...uhh..”

Nova sighed heavily, standing up from the tub and exposing her naked body in front of the man. “Tits. I am sure you have seen a pair before.” Nova sat back down, glaring at the male with stunned brown eyes. “Now, what the fuck is so important that you are here disrupting my bath time?”

“Na-Nazir told me to in-inform you that t-t-the contracts have...umm...been completed,” he said, stumbling over almost every word.

Nova closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “That's it?”

The recruit looked confused. “Yes?”

“Come here,” she ordered. Without question, he did as demanded, never before standing as close to the Listener as he did now. She grabbed him by the scruff of his collar, pulling him dangerously close to her face. “When I said to only come in if it was important, I meant it.”

The inside of his pants would match the color of his eyes if he were any more terrified. “A-a-apologies, m'lady.”

“Do I look like your lady?” Her grip tightened even more as she burned her eyes into his.

“I mean, L-L-Listener!”

She shoved him back hard, making him trip over his feet more than he does his words. “Go and do something useful. Clean the dining hall or some shit.”

He gave a bow and quickly left Nova alone to finish her bathing. She was thinking about punishing him later but dismissed it with the idea of Nazir pulling a prank on the naive initiate. Nova reached over and splashed some water on the candles on the wall. She wanted to darken the room without having to get up once again.

The Sanctuary in Dawnstar never lets in any light from the outside to intrude. The only way to know of the time was to go outside. However, as a vampire, Babette never had an issue with that. People knew that if she was awake, it was night. If she was sleeping, it was day. She was the biological clock for everyone.

There were only a few specialized assassins that were allowed to do daytime killings. Nova left that up to Nazir since he had more finesse when it came to talking to people. He has spent more time with the initiates than she has. The only recruit she actually had a conversation with was just Triunn. The rest of the time, it was asking them where her trusted members were which only consisted of Babette and Nazir. Cicero is loyal, yes. There was no doubt about that in her mind. However, loyalty and trust were similar threads woven of a different fabric. The mad fool could still come unhinged despite only doing so with Astrid when she said she was above the Night Mother.

It always made Nova wonder why the jester was never made Listener instead. He did everything he could to please the corpse that laid silent before him. Always making sure the body was clean of parasites, rodents, and mold, spending hours meticulously keeping her fresh as much as a centuries year old cadaver could be. Maybe his madness came from the fact that he was never made Listener. Years upon years being the keeper, silently waiting for the return of the one who could hear her voice. The problem Nova had was she could not read the joker's face all that well. She never knew if he would one day snap with jealousy over her position as the right hand of the person he worships. All doubts however were removed when Nova questioned her about his motives. The Night Mother assured her child of darkness that he would never do such a thing as that would be against the wishes of her will. Cicero was most loyal to the Night Mother and he dared not do anything to displease her. That was the only thing that put Nova's mind at peace when she slept in the Sanctuary.

The Listener wrung her white hair to get it dry as possible before stepping out of the tub. She felt light headed and planted a firm hand against the stone wall. Even after popping her neck, she still felt disoriented. She trudged back into her room, tossing on some black and red robes with the handprint of the Dark Brotherhood embroidered on the back. Although they were mage robes, they worked as a bath gown just as well.

She crept her way past Babette's room, taking a peek inside. A vacant bed answered her question about the time. When Nova turned around, the child startled her.

“Gods, Babette! If you're going to sneak like that, do it on a target.”

“Just wondering what you're doing, is all,” she chided.

“I was seeing if you were awake or not.” Although Babette looked innocent and sweet, she actually was one of the only people who Nova feared. Cicero was just annoying and the main thing she feels for the recruits was distrust out of not knowing them. As long as Nazir did, that was all that mattered. But outright being scared of someone...Babette took the crown. Nova loved the vampire for everything she did regardless though.

She tilted her head in interest. “How come, Nova?”

“To speak to you and Nazir. Figured I let you in on some business. I may be the head of this clan but I still need you and him as my eyes and ears.”

“Come join us for breakfast. I made some of those cornmeal cakes with the tree sap you like so much.” Babette skipped away, humming happily.

“Guess I could go for some food.” Her stomach agreed as well.

The large dining table was set with ivory plates and silver forks and knives. The Listener approached the head of the table where her ornate chair towered. No one else was allowed the privilege of sitting there. Last person who did was disciplined with a flogging and chained in the dungeon for the day. A punishment Nova herself handled.

Everyone started to dig into the glorious food prepared by one of the best alchemists and cooks in Skyrim and probably any other surrounding providence. She didn't just make the cornmeal cakes but a convection of horker and pig and chicken stuffed into one another. It was like a twisted experiment that came out right. With sweet rolls and just plain rolls to cleanse the pallet on top of that. Everyone that was present was feasting on the delicacies...All but Cicero who sat quietly for once.

“Something the matter, Cicero?” Nova asked after she swallowed a bite of the flat cakes.

The daggers in his eyes pierced through Nova when he glared at her. “Dear Mother would be upset for not giving thanks for this meal.”

“Right,” the white haired assassin placated, not wishing to stir up any animosity with the joker. She placed her fork down, making everyone else mimic her action in kind. “Go ahead then.”

Cicero cleared his throat, banishing the gloomy look that inhabited his face moments before. “Oh sweet, Night Mother. We thank thee for bringing us together. May the darkness rise and fulfill the wishes of the Dread Father. In his will, we are all one.” Cicero finished the prayer with a hand sign before digging into the food.

Nazir leaned in close, only enough for Nova to hear. “Why do you appease him so much?”

“We all have our roles, Speaker. Cicero is the Keeper. Without him taking care of our matriarch, we would never have discovered me as the Listener in the first place. I'd rather him be in a good mood...Would you not agree?”

“I still hate clowns,” Nazir mumbled before sitting straight in his chair, cutting into his three meat slab.

As everyone was beginning to finish their meals, Nova took a stand, catching everyone's attention. “As this probably goes without saying, I am no longer a vampire like our dear Babette. Such measures had to be taken in order to ensure our standing in Skyrim as top of the line assassins.”

“What do you mean by that, Listener?” The voice belonged to the same man who intruded on her bath time earlier.

“For those that were not here a few days ago...I crossed paths with a vampire hunter. Long story, short, I had to be cured of my vampire blood in order to see again. Now...is there any new information or problems that need to be discussed?”

Nazir raised his hand but didn't wait for his leader's permission. “Yes. We have a deserter who just disappeared. One of our initiates left without warning and we have not heard from him since the other day.”

Nova sipped on her tea before asking. “Do you mean Triunn?”

Nazir was taken back by her question. “Glad to know you are taking an interest in their names now. And yes...Him.”

“I have him on special assignment. You needn't worry about him.”

“No offense with you as our leader but...A little communication would be better appreciated. I was ready to gather up a tracking party to hunt him down.”

“Noted,” Nova curtly replied. Her gaze washed over the rest of her company at the table. “Anything else?”

Cicero was whistling a tune while balancing the pointed edge of his knife on the tip of his finger. Everyone else just shook their heads in unison.

“If that is all, I must be getting to bed,” Babette yawned, stretching her arms. “I hope you all enjoyed the meal.”

Everyone agreed and complimented the alchemist for creating such a feast. She curtsied before taking her leave. Everyone, including Nova pitched in to clean up the dining area, much to all the initiates' surprise. Cicero left to take care of the cadaver he worshipped.

Before retreating to her bedroom, Nova pulled Nazir to the side. “Do you still have connections with that smith who made my bow?”

“What happened to your precious ebony one?”

“Never mind the details...Do you?”

Nazir stroked his braided beard and smiled. “I'll see what the old codger is up to. Same one as before?”

“Yes,” Nova answered quickly but then thought about it some more. “No...Actually, I liked the ebony but I could still feel the weight of it holding me back a little. Something lighter but still powerful. Maybe quicksilver?”

The dark man piqued an eyebrow. “Wouldn't that be easier to see in the dark?”

“That is for me to worry about, Brother.”

Nazir shrugged, giving into her demands. “As you wish. Give me a few days to return.”

The Nord nodded with permission. “Take your time and make sure he does as well.”

“Trust me...He does. That is why I requested a few days. Besides, I could use a vacation.”

Nova smirked at his comment. “From what? Slitting a throat or two every week? Such hard work.”

“Hey now...You know how hard it is to get blood stains out of these garbs?”

“Not as hard as getting it out of my hair.”

“Get enough of it in there, you will look like your pretty wife.”

The both of them laughed, appreciating each other's twisted humor. Nazir went to gather his things for the trip as Nova retreated back to her bedroom. When she stalked down the hall, she could hear faint whispering in one of the rooms. Her curiosity got the better of her as she hid among the shadows, peering through the crack in the door.

“I'm telling you, she showed me everything!”

A female snorted back. “You make it sound like you have a chance with her. Were you here when she brought her wife? She is a slit licker, numbskull.”

“Guess you have a better chance then,” the perverse man jibbed.

The two of mused about, infuriating Nova from the disrespect. Not so much the woman but the idiot who thinks he has the audacity to make such bold claims of being able to bed the Listener like some common whore.

Not wishing to hear any more, Nova pushed open the door. The brown eyed initiate quickly gasped, trying to keep his composure. “Listener,” he said with a bow.

“Come with me,” she ordered. When both of them started to move, she pointed a finger at the other person. “Not you.”

The male gulped heavily as he timidly followed his leader to the back part of the Sanctuary. The torture rooms.

“Do you think I am attractive?” she asked in a tantalizing and seductive tone.

“I...umm...I g-g-guess?”

“You guess?” She twirled a lock of her hair, biting the bottom of her lip. “That's not much of a compliment.” She pushed him against the wall, breathing heavily into his ear. The bulge in his pants pressed against her outer thigh with anticipation. Nova could feel his heart pounding hard against his chest, his breathing also shallow and scared with excitement.

“You're a-a-absolutely stunning,” he blabbered, putting his hands on her waist.

She quickly smacked his hands away like a child trying to touch a hot stove. “I can touch you...But you cannot touch me until I say so. Are we clear?”

“Y-y-yes ma'am.” His eyes were wild with desire and other other perverted thoughts of lust. However, they suddenly changed to confusion when he felt cold metal clasp his wrist followed by a loud click. He looked down and saw the fasteners binding him to the wall. “The hell?”

Nova quickly balled her fist up and hit him hard in the chest, expelling all air from his lungs. “You think I would ever do such a thing with you?!” she shouted, causing her voice to echo through the cavern.

He tried to say something but was laboring his efforts to try and breath. Within seconds, Nazir and two of the recruits barged in to see what the commotion was. “The hell is going on?” Nazir questioned, looking at a seething Nova.

She cracked her knuckles, ready to teach this chauvinist a lesson in respect. “This man here had the idea of thinking he could fuck me.”

Nazir started to laugh; not to make light of the situation but because of how utterly stupid the man was being. “What brought this idea on?”

“When you sent him to me to inform me of the completed contracts, I was taking a bath. He came in, ogling me and drooling like an idiot. Then after breakfast, he was bragging about seeing my tits...Among other things.” Nova's rage burned through her eyes, seeing the panic struck recruit with fear eating through him. “I say punishment is in order for his lack of respect.”

The initiate started to gather his breath enough to talk finally. “You were the one who brought me here, asking what I thought of you!” He managed to say the sentence without a stutter for once.

“First off, boy. I am not your harlot. Second, when I said I could touch you but you cannot me...I meant it.” Nova walked over to the wall where various torture apparatuses hung on the wall. Carving hooks, embalming tools, eye gougers, all laid neatly on a table that was caked with dried blood. She grabbed the whip that had a small scythe that renders flesh from bone with each stroke.

“Please...I'm sorry! It won't h-h-happen again!”

“Turn around,” she commanded, letting the metal scorpion tail scrape along the ground.

“Please, I'm begging you, Listener! Have mercy!”

Nova giggled disturbingly, leaving a haunting chill on her audience. “This is mercy compared to what I have done to others. Now...Turn around.”

A bead of sweat dropped down on his face. Fear consumed him entirely. The transgressor took a shuddering breath before turning to face the wall. Nova bound his other hand down as well so he was completely restricted from doing anything except take the lashings.

She brought the whip back and cleaved forward with it, cracking it against his back. His cuirass offered little protection with each stroke. The man was grunting, keeping his fortitude and strength of will maintained. One of the initiates left before the third lashing. Blood was starting to pour out of his wounds. His leather armor torn to shreds along with his skin.

Nova was no longer doing it out of punishment but for pleasure on her own behalf. Nazir let out a forced cough, giving a wordless signal. She tossed the whip on the table, wiping her hands on a dirty cloth. “Clean him up. I have some business to attend to.” She tossed the rag at the back of the punished initiate. It instantly stuck to him, saturating with blood within seconds.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I think of a werewolf who doesn't eat the hearts of humans, they need a different outlet to quell their nature. Arturius found his through heavy drink. I always felt there should be a downside to going straight because no good deed should go unpunished. I almost pity him because I have seen first hand what that path can do.


	17. Temptress of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shouldn't need a warning. Rated M for a reason.

A bucket of water splashed on the passed out Dunmer but had little effect on him. A guard shook Arturius instead in the hopes of getting him to wake up. The hungover hunter just groaned, cussing out the guard that disturbed him.

“Ya can't be sleeping in the cemetery, grey skin. Be disrespectful to the dead. Now move.”

Arturius rubbed his heavy and bloodshot eyes, not remembering how he even got here. “Ugh...” he groaned, his mouth feeling more rotten than the canal. Feeling the moisture dripping from his face and hair, the dark elf wondered if the water came from there as well.

“Get moving before I find a place down in the dungeon for you,” the guard threatened.

“I'm up, I'm up.” Arturius' dry lips were cracked and the almost noon sun made his eyes feel like they belonged to a vampire. He tried to get up but his legs would not cooperate. He ended up stumbling forward, catching his balance on the wall before puking up what was left in his stomach.

“Goddamn elves...No respect for the dead.”

Arturius ignored the comment as he made his way back to the tavern. The hammering of the smithy rang his sensitive ears, turning the headache into a migraine. The hunter walked across the bridge, leaning over the railing. Nothing came out as he dry heaved.

“By the Divines, lad. You sure can't handle your drinks, can you?” asked the all too familiar voice.

“What do you want, Brynjolf?”

“How about repayment for taking that lovely damsel clothes shopping since you were too wasted to do so?”

“Where is she?” Arturius questioned groggily.

“I just dropped her off and told her I would go fetch you. She didn't seem all that pleased when I mentioned you. Must have left a nice impression on the lass.”

“I barely remember anything from last night.” The Dunmer stood up straight, trying to rub his temples to relieve the pressure in his tormented head.

“Well...Go get yourself some water and then talk to her,” Brynjolf suggested before making his way to the graveyard. “Also, buy her something nice. The ladies do like a good gift as an apology.”

“Sure...Whatever you say.” Arturius returned to the tavern and ordered a jug of water as big as the pitcher of ale last night. It helped slightly as it washed away the rotten taste on his tongue and transformed his desert dry throat into an oasis.

When he went upstairs to the room, he looked at the shield that damaged the floor pretty heavily. He knew he caused it but didn't remember the specifics. After closing the curtains, Arturius rested on the bed, waiting for Serana return. Over an hour passed before he heard footsteps gliding up the stairs. The vampire opened the door and her face went from joyous to sour upon the sight of her savior.

“Morning,” Arturius said nonchalantly.

“That's all you have to say?” Serana asked, folding her arms over her chest. She could still smell the liquor on him.

The elf stared at the new clothes she got. A dark corset that laced in the back, similar to the one she already had. However, this one accented her pale skin even better. “You look lovely,” he complimented.

“Thank your redheaded friend for helping me out,” she said with disdain, keeping her distance from the hungover elf.

Arturius could sense the disappointment but still did not know why exactly. “I ran into him outside a while ago. Decided to just wait for you here till you were done.”

“That's nice...”

“Look...I don't exactly remember what happened last night after the raid and all that.”

“Do you need a reminder of how big of an ass you were being?” Serana's arms tensed up; her fingers digging into the sleeves of her new outfit.

“If that is what it takes to stop glaring at me with such hate.”

“You're an idiot if you think I hate you.” She sighed heavily. “No. It's not that. It was you letting me down. I guess I thought too much of you.

The words hit his chest hard, plucking and breaking a few heart strings. “I...What did I do?”

Serana laughed but it was tainted with anger. “You were just a typical, belligerent ass. That's all.”

Arturius tilted his head, confused over her statement. “The way you said that reflects differently than how you feel.”

“Oh?” She rested a hand on her hip, taking a defensive stance. “Now you notice how I feel?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Arturius' face started to redden with frustration over the vague answers.

“Last night, I was raking your skin with my nails, telling you with my eyes to take me again...And what do you do? Tell me to go to sleep so you can go and get shitfaced.”

“I...” Arturius stammered before curling his lips in silence. He nodded at her and let out a sigh of disappointment within himself. “I didn't go down to get plastered. I...usually do that after...umm...seeing horrors like with what happened last night.”

Serana studied him, seeing the man before her shudder with emotion. She noticed the way he tightened his jaw which made his elongated ears twitch. This whole time they were talking and he has barely lifted his eyes to meet hers. She could tell he was ashamed.

“You shouldn't try to wash your problems with booze.”

“I know...” Arturius started to chuckle as he shook his head. “I used to be able to get drunk after two mugs of ale. As Moonborn though, I need more than just that to even feel anything. I guess I don't know how much or when to stop.”

Serana took in the story, understanding it all too well. “When I became a vampire, the thought of drinking blood was...abhorrent.” Arturius' raised his eyes up and locked them into Serana's gaze as she continued. “The first time I did, I was completely starved for blood. I ended up killing the man. He was completely drained. My thirst was out of control...Just like yours was last night.” The vampire walked up close to the elf and knelt down in front of him, their faces level. “However, my thirst is of necessity...Yours isn't”

“I...won't say it will never happen again.” Serana's eyes glassed over with disappointed. “But I will do my best to not go that far off the deep end.” The tears that were welling up suddenly started to retreat, reflecting an image of hope soon after.

Serana stood up on her feet to sit down next to Arturius. “You never break your promises, do you?”

“Aye,” Arturius said with assurance.

“I'm curious as to why you feel the need to consume that much in the first place.”

A shrug was all her offered before changing the subject. “We should probably get going. Where are we headed?”

Not wishing to pursue the matter, she got off the bed and started walking to the door. Serana paused, her nails clicking on the frame of the exit. “We need to figure out a way to read the Scroll, right?”

Arturius sniffed underneath his arms. “I need a bath first.”

“As do I,” Serana agreed as she left the room. She swayed her hips a little, enough to catch his attention.

“Tease,” Arturius said with a smile as he proceeded to follow her downstairs to the small bathhouse in the basement.

“Now you take notice?”

A male Argonian stood watch outside the door when the two approached. “If you need to use the bath, there isss only enough for water for one perssson,” he warned.

“That's fine,” Serana said, palming a few coins in the lizard's hand.

He stared at the gold and furrowed his scaly brow. “Isss thisss some kind kind of joke?” The man threw the coins back her in revulsion.

“What's the matter?” Arturius asked.

“If you are going to give me fake money, at leassst use the right sssymbol. Doesssn't even have the Emperor's head on it.”

Arturius realized that the vampire tried to use the currency in her time, centuries before the founding of the Empire. He reached for his own pouch that he kept safely tucked away. “Apologies. She was using coin from her antique collection. Must have gotten mixed up.” The elf corrected the mistake with his own money, making the Argonian huff at the statement.

“Go ahead then,” he said. The innkeeper opened the door to the walk in closet with a tub, a towel rack, and crooked table with assorted soaps and perfumes.

Serana went in first and Arturius shut the door behind them. The tub was rather large, even big enough to submerge the Dunmer's frame from his chest without exposing his knees even. However, it wasn't enough to cover them both simultaneously.

Serana started to strip down out of her new clothes, making Arturius blush a little bit despite what already occurred the other night. She opened the flood gate that poured the water from the reservoir. It barely filled the bathtub halfway before it stopped pouring.

“That's unfortunate,” the undead Nord sighed as she stepped into the frigid water.

Arturius handed her a wash cloth of questionable cleanliness. “Is it cold?”

“Nothing that can't be handled,” she answered as she dipped the cloth into the water. Serana started to exfoliate all the dust that stuck to her after miles of traveling as well as the dead skin from her sunburn. Little time was wasted and only after a few minutes, she got out of the tub to dry herself off. “Your turn if you want.”

Arturius reached in the tub, testing the water's temperature. “Gods...How can you stand it being that cold?”

“How can you stand being in the sun?” she refuted, rubbing the towel across her wet and naked body.

Arturius had an idea. He placed both his hands in the water, concentrating his magics. His hands glowed with power, causing the liquid around his palms to bubble. He could feel the water go from ice cold to now lukewarm. By the time he was able to get it comfortable, Serana was already dressed and ready to go.

After taking off his armor and clothing, Arturius shivered slightly as he entered. He was more used to steaming baths than anything. “Do you have any idea where you want to start going after this?” he asked, running soap through his long, dark hair.

“When I was a girl, my parents sent me to a college. That's where I learned most of my magic. My mother however, taught me all there she knew about necromancy since the college didn't allow it.”

“You raise the dead? As in...Zombies?” Arturius asked with a look of disgust. Even though he was bathing himself, he felt dirty for discussing this.

“More of working with the souls and spirits,” she answered while braiding her hair back to what it was before. “But yes, I can raise the dead if needed.”

“Never understood how mages could conjure up twisted ideas to bring people back after they die.”

“It's just the body, not the soul. Although, I can soul trap them and put it in a gem as well for total domination over both flesh and spirit.”

The way she worded it reminded Arturius of Nova's sick pleasures. He brushed that imagery as far from his mind as possible. “Ever wonder what happens to souls after they've been used in...your arts?”

Serana finished joining the braids around her head. “My mother told me about a place in Oblivion called the Soul Cairn where the essence of one's spirit goes afterward. The stories she told me was as if she were there herself.”

Arturius finally scrubbed off any offensive odors from his skin before washing the suds from his hair. “I've read a lot about necromancy; mainly how to counter it. I've never heard of the Soul Cairn.”

“Not a lot of living people have. My mother didn't really delve into her research till after she became a vampire. I think she was trying to find a cure maybe,” Serana said with a dispirited sigh. “I'm not sure.”

Arturius lingered in the water till his feet and hands were starting to prune. The hunter raised himself from the bathtub, making Serana lose her train of thought. When he pulled his cloth pants up, he took notice of the woman in heat. “You okay?”

“Mmm...Just fine,” Serana purred, licking her soft lips.

She walked up to the confused Dunmer and then pinned him against the wall. Before he could say anything, her lips were already sealed tight against his. Her tongue slithered in, invading his mouth.

Arturius pulled back, biting his bottom lip. “We just got done bathing.”

“And? We can take another one.” Serana winked as she undid his trousers. “Oh my,” she gasped, seeing his fully erect phallus stand at attention.

“Serana,” Arturius voiced with undertone. “I...You...” Before he could utter another stammer, he felt her push him onto the bench. Then the wetness between her thighs rubbed against the tip before slowly accepting him. A gasp escaped from his mouth as the hot entrance engulfed the rest of the shaft till her thighs met his.

“Mmm...We'll take this nice and slow, okay?” she coached as she gently rocked her hips back and forth.

The elf, lost over what is happening, only answered with a sharp inhale. Serana grinned sinfully as she held Arturius' head to her chest. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, urging him to give into the lust. He did so without any resistance. Arturius cupped one of her breasts gently while seductively playing with the other using his tongue. The vampire let out a moan of pleasure, feeling the pulsating flesh stretch her inner walls.

Arturius took his free hand and held onto her back to pull Serana closer. He was completely at her beck and call while in the heat of the moment. She kept gyrating her hips in small but quick motions, grinding more against his erection. He tilted his gaze up, seeing the fanged smile Serana had on her face. Her eyes glowed a deep orange from the ecstasy he was giving her.

Her nails raked down his spine as she moved her hips with increased fervor. “Serana...Gods,” Arturius moaned into her cleavage, his hips moving on their own accord.

“You like that?” Serana crooned, feeling his member thrust deep inside. Little moans of delight escaped from her with each motion.

Arturius forced his pelvis to stop giving into the concupiscence, sitting still with a dreary look in his eyes. “What are we doing?” he asked with a breaking voice.

Serana caressed his face, running her thumb from under his one of his ruby eyes to his ear. “It's your first time. It's okay,” she said with allure and compassion.

He raised a hand up to hold hers, drawing it down from his head. “It's not just because of that...It's what happens afterward.”

She draped her arms around the back of his sweaty neck. “You think I am just going to fuck you and disappear?”

“No...At least, I hope not.”

“I won't,” Serana promised as tightened her muscles around his shaft.

Arturius closed his eyes, biting his bottom lip. “It's more of...Wolves have a deep connection with those they choose.”

“I'll say you are pretty deep already,” she said with a twisted smile that bared her fangs.

“I am talking about on a different level,” Arturius sternly affirmed.

Serana rolled her eyes and separated their interlocked parts when she got back on her feet. “I get it. Just forget this happened then.” She reached down to snatch her clothes due to the ruined fun.

Arturius lowered his head and balled his fists in rage. “I just wanted you know how important...How serious this was for me," he spat with anger towards himself. He wanted to grab Serana to stop her but did not want to cause her to completely melt down like in the cave. "I shouldn't have said anything.” 

Before she slip the corset over her head, she glowered at the naked elf that was feeling sorry for himself. “You know...This is the first time I shared myself with anyone since...” Serana did not have to finish her sentence for Arturius to know what she meant. “You're an idiot if you thought it didn't have a deep meaning to me as well.”

“Serana, I didn't think that at all.” He cautiously raised his hand towards her vampire's arm so he would not alarm her. He took hold of her hand and placed it on his chest, making her feel the heavy beats. “I don't want to stop.”

Serana was taken back by his sincerity and words that bared no false pretense. “Are you sure this is what you want? A blood sucking bitch to take your purity?”

Arturius' head snapped up instantly. “You're not a bitch!”

“But a blood sucker though, right?” The creature of the night kept her hand firmly planted on his chest, looking for any signs of deception.

“I don't see you as just a vampire...There is more to you than just that.” His stern voice was softening and his fists no longer balled tight. Arturius leaned forward and rested his forehead on Serana's sternum, wrapping his arms around her back to hold her close.

“That's all I needed to know,” she whispered as she petted his coal dark hair. She again positioned herself onto the elf's lap, still wet from before.

Arturius let out a sigh of relief as he entered her once again. The tight muscles gave some opposition, putting up a playful fight. Serana raised herself up to the tip before sinking down again to bury the phallus in its entirety. Arturius held onto her hips and back, guiding her movements onto him, getting lost in the pursuit of pleasure.

The breathing escalated between them, synchronizing their movements together. “You're a...fast learner,” Serana gasped with surprise, digging her nails into Arturius' back.

The elf groaned, sensing a trickle of blood following down his spine. The added pain only made him want more. He began to thrust his hips hard into Serana's soaked vagina. The wolf inside gave into its primal nature, ravaging her as he shoved in every inch of his member inside her. The flared head stretched the entrance of her before thrusting back into her.

“Arturius!” she moaned gripping his back even harder. “Don't stop!”

His crotch suddenly began to tingle, spasming inside the wet walls of her cunt. He did not lose any momentum despite the strange feeling that he never experienced before. Serana noticed his shortened gasps, sensing his imminent climax. She regained control again, writhing her hips seductively. She arched her back as she held onto Arturius. She contracted around his shaft to coax out his seed, moving faster with each moan they let out.

“Ser...Gods...” Arturius only managed to whimper. The sensation was too much for him to handle. He gave one final thrust before erupting what seemed like all of his life force into her.

Serana pulled him close to her chest, feeling the hot and heavy pulses flooding into her welcoming depths. They sat in silence, save for the heavy breathing of them trying to recuperate.

Serana cradled the sweat drenched head of hair, resting her cheek on top. “How was it?” she whispered with satisfaction.

He nestled into her chest, shuddering from the tremor of his first ever orgasm. “I...It was...”

She pulled herself back, brushing her fingers around Arturius' face. She brought her lips to his trembling ones. Her tongue once again invaded his mouth, moaning deeply from the aftermath of their first sexual experience together. “I bet you're ready to pass out, huh?”

Arturius fell back onto the wall, resting his hands on Serana's hips. “Are you a mind reader too?”

“After everything you did today and this for added measure, I am surprised you are not in a coma,” She leveled her body to align with his, their genitalia still entwined with one another.

“I have a lot...” A yawn snuck its way in, causing his eyes to water slightly. “Of energy.”

Serana kissed him again, tugging his thick hair playfully. “We need to bathe again.”

* * *

Ysolda shivered, barely able to see through the darkness. The chains around her feet rattled as played with them hopelessly. Her mind reflected back on how Nova tried to teach her how to pick locks. When she felt along her surroundings, iron bars greeted back. A cage.

“Fresh meat,” a deep and sadistic voice whispered with a laugh. “Been needing some.”

“W-w-who are you?”

“Who I am doesn't matter, blood sack.”

Ysolda looked up, seeing the orange glowing eyes hovering past the bars. She knew immediately. Her eyes burned with tears when she sobbed. She curled herself up in a ball in the corner, immured in her confines. The iron gate swung open, making Ysolda tense up. A hand gripped her hair and lifted her from the straw covered cage. She cried out in pain, trying to fight off her kidnapper. It worked as well as a fish struggling out of the jaws of a bear. Teeth sunk into her neck, piercing her flesh. It wasn't gentle the way Nova used to do. Before long, her knees started to grow weak. The man kept her raised up, draining her to the point of her becoming faint. He finally pulled away, licking the bloody residue from the circumstance of his mouth.

“So damn tasty,” the vampire complimented, letting the Nord go.

She fell to her knees, unable to even cry. She just sniffled. The door shut hard, echoing throughout the cave. The dress she wore before was replaced when she was knocked out. A rough spun burlap that was crudely made was her garment now. Ysolda tore off a strip and pressed it against the wound on her neck. The prickly fibers stabbed into the holes, making the terrified woman flinch. It helped to staunch the hemorrhaging as the fabric started to seal itself onto the injury.

A stench became apparent once her fear started to subside. A faint glow from a distant torch across the way gave just enough light for Ysolda to see a cage adjacent to her own. A body lied still. It was too dark to see what it looked like, rather male or female, elf, human, or otherwise. All she knew was the corpse has probably been sitting there for a while.

“Hello?” came a weak voice from the opposite side of her.

“Who's there?” Ysolda asked, turning her head to squint into where the voice came from.

“Jusa prisoner like you,” he exclaimed. “Although you are tha first new one inna week since poor Fiske ova' there kicked tha bucket.”

Ysolda gripped the metal bars, resting her forehead on the cold contraption. “How long have you been here?”

“Pfft...Hell if I know. Too long though, I'll tell ya that much. Juss so fuckin' tired of being these creature's cattle.”

“Shut up over there!” the vampire who drained Ysolda shouted.

The man brought his voice down to a whisper. “I'm Herleif.”

“Ysolda,” she returned in kind. “I'm a trader over in Riften. You have any idea where we are?”

“Wish I could say. Haven't seen tha light'a day for gods know how long now.”

“Great,” she said with a gloomy sigh. She was lost at what to do. Ysolda never thought she would be in a situation like this. Nova was always there along with the Thieves Guild. Always, they had her protected. Not this time.

The primitive bandage was starting to dry with encrusted blood. When she felt her neck to see how tender it still is. The necklace that had her wedding ring on it was gone. She curled back up into a ball, pulling on her hair in frustration. The tears finally found escape.

* * *

Nova went into the dungeon where her punished recruit was still bound. His skin stained with dried blood. At least, the skin that wasn't flayed. Considering the shackles were at waist level, he could not have sat down or anything without breaking his wrists.

“Have we learned our lesson?” Nova quipped.

The Initiate meekly replied. “Yes, Listener.”

“And what was the lesson?”

“Don't piss you off.”

Nova smiled as she ran her fingers through his greasy hair that was crusty from sweat. “Now, now. That's just common sense. No, that wasn't the lesson. It was about disrespecting me. It's an insult to think you could have swooned me in such a manner. The lesson is...Don't throw me under the table. When you whisper of such things to all the members of our family, they will start to question my leadership.” The Listener grabbed a tuft of his hair, jerking his head back. “And questions lead to doubts of loyalty.”

“Understood,” the initiate grunted.

“Good.” Nova let go and pulled out the key to unlock the shackles around his chafed wrists. He collapsed on his knees, his legs completely strained from being forced to stand for hours on end.

When she stared over the recruit, the lashes he received were starting to become infected. Nova withdrew a vial of her favored serum. She ordered him to hold still. The thick syrup oozed out, hitting the open and fresh wounds. Silence. He didn't even flinch. It made Nova wonder how much he could handle. The grievous injuries he had were worse than what Arturius got. Yet, even with the lashings on his back and the added salve, he did not express any form of discomfort.

“What's your name?”

“Caius,” he answered, rubbing his raw carpus.

“You're from Cyrodiil?”

Caius nodded, informing Nova that he is an Imperial. “Yes, Listener.”

She slid down on the ground, sitting down to face him. His demeanor was completely different from before. It was like he was reforged from the whimsical and scared recruit to someone with a killer instinct. Not even a stutter from before.

“Why did you join us?”

“Why do you care?” he grumbled before coughing nervously. “Sorry, I di-”

“It's fine if you are upset with what happened,” Nova interrupted. “It has been brought to my attention that I haven't exactly been...friendly with the new recruits. Hell, between you and Triunn, you two are the only names I even bothered to know. So...I've been working to change that.”

“Off to a great start so far.” Again, he spoke before thinking.

Nova laughed at his gumption, amused with his upfront and brash rhetoric. “You sure speak your mind, don't you?”

Caius let out a shrug. “I guess?”

“Can you stand?” Nova asked, standing up and holding out a friendly hand. “Let's get you some food and water.”

The Imperial was confused over her change in personality as well. He accepted the help and grunted as he got back on his feet. His knees were weakened but he managed to keep them steady. When he walked though, he struggled a bit to keep his balance. He made it to the dining table with her help. The lady initiate that Caius was bragging to earlier averted her eyes when the two of them passed her.

Nazir was the only one at the table, who was enjoying a cut of meat. “Everything alright now, Sister?”

“Indeed,” Nova answered, helping the enervated assassin into a vacant chair. She went over to the cooking spit that had some vegetable beef stew simmering over the hot coals. She gave Caius a bowl of it as an offering of his penance being forgiven.

He hunched over the bowl, dipping into the stew with a shaking spoon. The salt content burnt his cracked lips but he ignored the pain, slurping on the delicacy. Nazir glanced over at his leader with a look of disappointment, letting her know how he felt without verbalizing it.

“Nazir...Why are you still here? You said you were leaving hours ago.”

“Have you been outside? Damn blizzard is stopping me from seeing a hand in front of my own face.”

“Is that all?” Nova retreated to her room and came back a few minutes later with robes draped over her arms. “These were a gift from Festus the night before Astrid's betrayal. He said they would keep me warm and dry no matter the season or weather.”

“Festus,” Nazir whispered as he accepted the gift from his leader. “Miss that old bastard and his grumpy ramblings.”

Nova reflected back on the nostalgia as well. “Always calling us young kids.”

“Except Arnbjorn. Just called him a puppy.” The two of them laughed at the good memories they had with the old family. They never would let the actions of their former leader ever taint the good memories of the ones who died that night.

“May each drop of blood we spill honor their names,” Nova praised.

“Always do,” Nazir said, smiling softly at Nova. “Don't know what we would have done without you, Listener.”

“That's...That's the first time you've called me that in a long time,” Nova noticed. “Sounds strange coming from you.”

“Yeah, well...Don't get used to it,” the Speaker said. He rested his hand on her shoulder before walking by. He tossed on the robes around his garb as he headed outside to fetch Nova's favored weapon of choice.

Caius finished his bowl of stew when Nova sat down next to him. “You know...There was this target I was interrogating a few days back. All I did was cut his arm and he was yelling his head off at me. Even more when I poured that same medicine on his wounds.”

The Imperial sat with his eyes cast down on the table. “Why are you telling me this?” he said with a sour voice.

“Because.” Nova's hand reached under his chin and forced his dark brown eyes to look into her ice blue ones. “You got lashings that would drop any one else after getting a couple of them...Yet, you barely flinched. Even after I applied that salve, you didn't even let out a whisper of pain. That same guy who did, had scars all over his body. He wasn't exactly a stranger to pain.” Nova took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “You have my admiration.”

Caius shoved his chair backwards, looming over his Listener. “Glad I could be of service as your whipping boy,” he said through gritted teeth even though the cowl masked over the bottom half of his face. As he turned to hobble away, Nova grabbed him by the wrist with surprising strength. Either that or all those hours of standing left him in a weakened state.

“What you did earlier today was disrespectful; an insult to my standing and dedication to what I have done to preserve this family. If you would rather go back to whatever shit life you were doing before you were accepted here...Be my guest. You've been forgiven through blood. Don't repeat the same mistake, especially with your wounds still being fresh as they are.” She released the grip on his tender wrist; her anger calm and collected.

“I...Apologies, Listener.” Caius gave a formal bow of respect worthy of the Emperor, if he were still alive.

Before Nova could respond, a slithering and raspy voice snuck its way into her head.

“ _Listener...”_

Nova almost fell out of her chair. She still was not used to such intrusions in her own mind. “Duty calls,” she said to the initiate as she gathered her composure.

The Listener bowed down before the iron coffin, touching her head to the floor. “ _Another child has prayed to their Mother.”_

“Yes, Mother,” Nova said obediently before raising herself up but still staying on her knees.

“ _Riften calls. You yourself need to meet with the contract personally,”_ she whispered with haggard breath.

“I just need a name and I will be on my way, Mother.”

“ _Brynjolf.”_

Nova was caught off guard with what she said. Although The Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild sometimes do favors for one another, they never mixed business like this before. For Brynjolf to perform the Black Sacrament is crossing over some unwritten rules. Thieves Guild handled Thieves Guild problems on their own. However, the Night Mother gave her orders.

“Your will be done.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally went through with it. I didn't want to keep the readers waiting too long. I don't even know if I am good at writing sex scenes. ~shrugs~ If it works, it works. If it doesn't, oh well. I try not to be too raunchy with detail. I try to find a nice middle ground between fluff and smut.


	18. Fierce Guardian

The afternoon air wasn't cold enough for Arturius to draw ghostly wisps from his breath yet. Serana never did in the first place regardless. They weren't even sure where the two of them were headed. It was more for the enjoyment of the walk and each others company than the destination.

“Can't believe that Argonian kicked us out,” Serana giggled, holding onto the elf's forearm.

Arturius shook his head, joining in on the merriment. “You're the one who jumped my bones.”

“I needed just one,” she said with a smirk and a wink. Suddenly, Serana stopped and turned her head with a worried look.

“Something the matter?”

The vampire kept silent for a few seconds, intently studying her surroundings. “I thought I heard something.”

“I don't smell anything out of the ordinary,” Arturius assured after sniffing the air a few times.

Serana's suspicions didn't waver. However, she kept walking down the road. “I know I heard something.”

“Dead branch could have fell?”

“Maybe,” she agreed reluctantly. “Wouldn't really matter though. Not much that the two of us cannot handle.”

“Exactly.”

Up ahead, Arturius caught sight a trio of warriors, donning golden and flashing armor that glistened in the sun light. Arturius knew who they were right away. High elves from the Thalmor Agency. Arturius kept close to Serana as the group walked closer towards them.

“Who are they?” Serana asked, noticing the hunter getting tense.

“They are Altmer Judicators,” Arturius said with a harsh whisper. Serana just gave him a confused look in response. He realized he had to go into greater detail. “They make sure the treaty is upheld so the Great War doesn't turn into the Second Great War.”

Again, Arturius was met with another puzzled look over everything. “Just give me as basic details as possible,” Serana requested.

“Okay...The Empire and Summerset Isles were at war. The Altmer and the humans. After over a decade of fighting, the Empire signed a treaty called the White-Gold Concordat which gave the High Elves free reign to travel through Skyrim and uphold the idea that Talos is no longer allowed to be worshipped. In other words; there are eight divines, not nine.”

“That's it?” Serana asked, barely blinking at the elf. “They just go around and find people who worship this Talos?”

“And the people they arrest are never heard from again.”

“Oh, lovely. I bet that doesn't cause a lot of problems already.”

“Just..Just don't say anything that will cause any trouble. They have been known to antagonize people, threatening them if they have to. Then if you so much lay a finger on the elves, they claim self defense and arrest you.”

“They sound like a bunch of cowards.”

Before Arturius could agree, one of the approaching Altmer spoke up. Her bright and golden eyes flared. “The only cowards are your primitive kind, Nord.”

The other two behind her sneered in agreement. A male as tall as Arturius but half the weight chimed in. “I cannot fathom why a lesser elf such as yourself would consider being in the company of an even lesser being such as this.”

Serana shook her head, simpering at the banter. “That's funny. You think it would be easier to ride that high horse you're on instead of walking.”

“The Nord has wit,” said the female that's leading them. “It's such a rare occurrence that you might be mistaken for a frost troll. Just as hairy and half as intelligent.”

Serana gripped her fists tight but knew she was at a disadvantage with the sun bearing down on her. She took a deep breath and feigned a smile when she walked by them. However, the tallest of the trio grabbed hold of her elbow. Panic ensued within the vampire.

“Don't you _ever_ touch me!” she screamed, yanking her arm free. Before Arturius could intervene, the Thalmor agent's face was greeted with a hard open palmed slap.

“That's assault on a government official, Nord.” Only the woman withdrew her weapon. The other two men conjured up spells of fire, making their hands burn. There wasn't enough tears to counter the flames that glowed in front of her.

“Stop!” Arturius shouted. He shoved his way between Serana and the high elves, using his heavy armor and size to his advantage. “Being grabbed is something she cannot handle. Please, let us forget about this and move on. Okay?”

“Why do we care what some ash skinned low life has to say?” the Altmer with the handprint on his face demanded. “Even as an inferior Mer, you lower yourself even more by being with some common whore?”

Before he could even chuckle at his insults, Arturius swung his metal clad fist hard across the high elf's face. The hand print turned into a collapsed jaw with whole sets of teeth falling out before he could touch the ground.

A blast of fire magic erupted from the other man's palms, aimed at the Dunmer. Only Arturius' hair got singed on one side as he used his shield as a deterrent. The fire continued to try and breach past the wall of steel but to no avail. Arturius charged recklessly at the mage, swinging the shield like a discus into the golden elf's head. A sickening crack contorted the neck as well as compressing the skull into a crater. One of his eyes dangled out from its socket from such a fierce blow.

Then Arturius pulled out his sword.

“Please! Don't kill me!” the woman begged, dropping her mace to the ground.

Arturius' brooding face paralyzed her. Serana started to regain her composure when she noticed the bloodlust in the dark elf's eyes. The glowing Dawnbreaker raised high in the air, ready to give the agent the death stroke. Before it could be brought down in senseless violence, the Nord stepped between them. Her soft and chilly hand rested on his cheek.

“It's over,” she whispered, trying to soothe the raging giant. “Don't do this.”

A growl emanated from his throat, his inner beast wanting the heart that was still fresh and beating in the cage. Adrenaline was coursing through, causing his muscles to surge even more than previously expected. Serana kept her calm hand on his face, stroking the scar that on his cheek.

“Come back to me,” Serana pleaded in an assuasive voice.

His furrowed brow and face wrinkled with anger started to relax. The sword that was ready to pierce the Altmer's chest was slowly lowered, hanging forgotten in his death grip. “Are...Are you okay?” he asked after clearing his throat.

“More worried about you.” Serana lowered her hand from the elf's stern face to her side. “You were consumed with rage.”

Arturius shifted his gaze to the female warrior, staring down at the terrified elf. “I never wanted this fight. However, my hands were forced the moment you grabbed her and threatened her.”

“W-w-why?” she stammered. “Why take the human's side in all this?”

“Because...” Arturius started to say as he sheathed his sword. “You didn't say I was a fellow elf but titled me as a lesser one. That does not put us on the same side at all. I have little respect for those who look down on other races...Even if it's from a fellow Mer.”

Fear was more predominant than the elf's need for revenge on her fellow agents. Her moral was crushed; her fighting spirit banished. All she could do was watch the Nord and the Dunmer walk away from her, leaving her on the side of the road. The one with the shattered jaw slowly regained consciousness, his eyes blurry from concussion. He staggered up with weakened resolve but focused his magic regardless. He used his good eye on the opposite side of his swollen face. Before the warrior could stop her mage companion from making the situation even worse, he cast the fiery spell. The cinderbolt was off its mark through, missing the elf. However, it ended up hitting Serana in her calf.

“Serana!” Arturius screamed, catching her before the vampire fell.

“I'm okay!” Serana exclaimed, gritting her teeth through the pain. She started to dig into the ground. She threw the cold earth on the smoldering fabric and skin to smother the burn.

Arturius stood up. The animal inside awoke. He tore off his armor, breaking the straps that held it together. His greaves and gauntlets soon followed after. The two elves stared with confusion over what the dark elf was doing. Then an ear shattering howl roar pierced the air.

Just as Arturius witnessed Serana transform, the favor is about to be returned. His ears became more pointed and his face started to grow a snout. Snarling teeth became fangs and hands were replaced with claws. Then the creature charged while it was still transforming. The simple clothes he wore were shredded. The mage could not let out even a whimper before the lycan's maw tore into his face, mauling any recognizable features. The talons eviscerated his stomach, flaying his skin and disemboweling what was left of the elf.

The woman tried to get away from the beast. She barely got a running start before the wolf tackled her on the ground. One of its paws crowned her head. A claw sunk deep into her right eye, causing her to scream in anguish. Blood and viscous fluid oozed out of her orbital socket. The beast only dug in deeper before separating the head from the rest of her body. The severed part rolled on the ground, staring back at the creature with one eye with a silent scream.

Serana kept her eyes shut at the bloodbath she dared not to witness. The beast panted heavily. Its white fur stained red from the fresh kills. Every step it took towards her made it more revert back to his normal self. Paws became hands and feet while the silver fur receded. He was completely without clothes but did not care.

“Serana...” Arturius whispered, unsure of how she would respond.

Serana whimpered as the Dunmer sat down next to her injured leg. His hands slowly glowed with soothing magic and started to suture the heavily burnt skin. The vampire seethed through her teeth and closed her eyes again. As she started to hyperventilate, the pain suddenly stopped. She took a quick peek through one squinted eye to see her leg restored back to what it was normally.

“How are you able to do that?”

“I know healing magic,” he replied as he sat down on the cold dirt.

“I mean...Healing living and undead are two different things. You would have to know necromancy to do such a thing.”

The hunter nodded. “Aye. This Altmer over in Morthal taught me. Said that it was important to learn if I were to wield the Dawnbreaker sword. She never did tell me why though.”

“So an elf who gifts you with a weapon to kill all manners of undead said you had to learn a spell that heals them?”

“Yep,” Arturius said simply. “I don't get it either but I am glad I learned it now.”

Serana stood up, feeling a slight tinge of pain but able to walk without struggle. “You did an amazing job,” she complimented.

“Now if only I could do the same with my armor,” he jested, holding up the cracked and damaged chest plate. The leather straps were ripped as bad as the Altmer's bodies. He walked over to the freshly mangled bodies and inspected their armor. Their buckles were still intact and could be salvaged to fix his.

Before Arturius could get too involved, Serana questioned him. “Are you always that...vicious when you transform?”

“Sometimes. It depends really.”

“On?” Serana inquired further, prying into Arturius.

“How mad or hungry I am.” He loosened the leather straps without tearing them and started to weave them into his second skin.

“You seem more animalistic when you do. I guess it's different between us.”

“I would happen to agree on that. You were able to speak coherently while you were transformed. I can't do that as a werewolf.”

“Does the wolf part of you take over your mind as well?”

Arturius grunted as he pulled the leather straps through the fasteners. “Mostly. I can see and hear everything but it's not easy to control...Especially during full moons.”

Serana's eyes widened at the last part. “I don't want to know how much worse it could get.”

“You're already marked with my scent so you don't have to worry about that,” he said with assurance. Serana's tension was put a little bit at ease.

Arturius inspected the armor. Although the crack from Isran's hammer was still discernible, it would still hold fast from all but the heaviest of weapons. The padded leather was the only thing separating the steel and his skin as his clothes were torn to ribbons once he put it back on. It wasn't pleasant.

Serana looked down at her own damaged clothing and fumed. “Goddamn elves.” She then looked at Arturius with embarrassment. “I'm so sorry! I di-”

Arturius started to laugh at her being flustered. “Nah. Those high elves are pompous pricks. Don't see what is so high about them though.”

“Their opinion of themselves?”

“Pretty much,” he agreed, smiling at the blushing vampire. Arturius then realized that it was the sun causing her cheeks to redden so. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” Serana said with squinted eyes. “I just need some shade.”

The trees were stripped of their leaves already so that was out of the question. They two continued down the road with Serana trying not to limp. Arturius took notice despite her best efforts to appear strong.

“Here,” he said, scooping up the lovely damsel in his arms.

Serana draped her arm around the back of the elf's neck. “My knight in...not so shiny armor,” she giggled, amused by the overdone chivalry.

Arturius bounded down the stone laid path at a quickened pace. The added weight of Serana had no effect on the elf. Because of her condition in the sun, that alone was why he was moving with added speed in the first place.

“I really hate the sun,” Serana sighed, holding desperately onto her savior.

“You'll be fine,” he comforted.

A tower stood off into the distance. Arturius' mind traveled back to where he first encountered Nova. A sudden putrid stench invaded his nose without warning. The rotting body of the man the assassin killed. Wolves, bears, and other wildlife have been feasting on the cadaver this whole time. The hunter felt guilty for not providing a proper burial but then washed it away when the elf realized how abusive the fellow Dunmer was towards his spouse.

“You knew him?” Serana asked, seeing the grim look on his face.

Arturius shook his head as he jogged passed the body. “Not really. I just know that Nova killed him.”

The corner of Serana's mouth twitched at the sound of the name. “What is it with you two?”

“You really want to know the whole story?”

“Just don't run out of breath,” Serana said.

By the time Arturius reached the tower, he told her all about the vampire they captured, its threat about the Dark Brotherhood and Nova being involved. Serana could not believe her ears over the news. She sat down in the same spot that the former vampire was captured.

“You are the worst hunter if you let her get away,” she teased playfully then she took a more serious tone. “And on top of that, we find her half dead and you insisted on saving her.”

Arturius brooded over the comment, folding his arms across his chest. “And?”

“Why?” she demanded with jealously in her voice.

“I told you before; I don't attack those who cannot fight back,” Arturius replied sternly.

“And that woman whose head you tore off when she was trying to run away?”

The growl from his throat started to become more audible with frustration. “Why don't you tell me what's really on your mind?”

“I am just trying to figure out what's going on in your head to think it's a good idea to save a psychopath like her after what she did to you. That's all. You save her, yet kill another elf?”

“And if Nova hurt you like those Altmer did, then I would have done the same thing,” he vowed with fierceness. The veins in his arms protruded as he tensed up to the thought of her hunting down Serana. Arturius wondered if how vengeful the assassin would be after the series of events that occurred over the last few days.

Serana appreciated the gesture but was still tainted with jealousy over his mercy towards the killer. The same killer who tortured him, scarred his body, and then made an attempt on his life after saving her. She wondered if Arturius had any feelings towards her but figured her paranoia was working against herself.

Arturius still had no idea what was going on in Serana's head and didn't care to investigate further in fear of her lashing out. He kept silent as he glanced over at the vampire to see how her sunburn was settling.

“Are you feeling any better?”

Serana shrugged. “Somewhat.” She could feel her skin loosening by the minute; no longer feeling flush with fever.

Before they could get too relaxed, a horrible and thunderous roar rained from above. Arturius jumped up on his feet, his face now drained of color. “Oh, Gods,” he whispered.

“The hell was that?” Serana asked in panic.

“A dragon,” Arturius said solemnly.

They could hear the wings flap through the air, stirring and kicking up dust around the tower. The whooshing sound getting louder with each motion of its wings. Finally, it landed heavily on the ground just outside the stone tower. Arturius and Serana ducked near the walls to avoid being seen. The sound of razored claws scraping the ground sent shudders up the elf's spine. The vampire whimpered, praying to whatever divine or daedra will listen.

The dragon took in a deep breath before unleashing a torrent of ice and snow into the openings of the tower. A blizzard exploded inside the enclosed space, blanketing everything in over a foot of white powder. Still, the two prisoners kept silent, save for Arturius' chattering. He kept his jaw tight to avoid the unnecessary reverberation. Serana's eyes were kept shut as she gripped the Dunmer close to her.

Another roar of the mythical beast escaped. Arturius squeezed the pale and cold hand tight, keeping his shield raised over her for additional protection. Then the whole tower started to shake. Dust and fresh snow started to fall from the ceiling. The dragon was ramming its head against the structure, trying to breach its way inside through might instead of magic.

Then calm followed soon after. The two terrified beings could hear the low and heavy breathing of the dragon. Arturius' armor offered little protection against the chill since his clothing was removed. The sting of cold started to pierce his skin. Serana looked up at the elf whose skin went from an ash grey to a soft blue. The tundra from the dragon's breath made the blizzards up north feel like gentle breezes. Arturius could no longer feel his toes shortly after and was fading fast.

“ _Arturius!”_ she said under a harsh whisper. “ _Don't fall asleep!”_ Serana kept shaking him, trying to get him to open his eyes.

The Dunmer only let out a frigid grumble. “I'm c-c-cold.”

The eerie calm made Serana wonder what the frost wyrm was doing. Cautiously, she raised her head up to peek outside the small archway. A serpent eye glared back at her, its orange iris thinning to focus. Serana screamed as she shot out a bolt of lightning into the creature's eye. It shrilled in agony, going berserk from the pain. It staggered back, shooting out more frost in arbitrary directions.

“Wake up!” Serana shouted, going so far as to slap the shivering elf in the face.

Arturius snapped back to reality. He tried to stand up but his legs would not listen to him. He clasped his hands together and wove together to the fire magic to instill warmth back into his body. He did his best to concentrate as the dragon unleashed its fury, still blinded by pain.

“What's g-g-going on?” Arturius asked, trying not to chatter his teeth.

“I got it in the eye and now its mad.” Serana took another gander out the hole, mesmerized by the magnificent beast. “I never thought I would see the day...”

“B-b-better get u-used to it.”

The dragon started to flap its wings, lifting itself back up into the air. Serana got pelted with dust and rocks from the whirling wind it procured, causing her to retreat back under the safety of the wall.

“I hope it's leaving,” she prayed.

The beat of the dragon's wings slowly dissipated until it was gone. Arturius was finally able to stand up although was still shaken by both cold and fear.

“Can never g-g-get used to the c-cold,” he said, shaking off as much of the bitter frost from his hair and body.

“Was that your first encounter with one of them?”

Arturius shook his head. “They can't be k-k-killed either.”

“What do mean by that?” Serana asked with shock and intrigue.

“I need to w-w-warm f-f-first,” he shivered, stepping out of the snow capped room. The noon sun offered some warmth to help thaw the elf out.

Serana stood in the frozen tower, feeling more refreshed. The cold helped her sun burnt skin more than just shade alone. A silver lining she found in being attacked by a dragon. She couldn't imagine what it would be like if it breathed fire instead. After Serana spent a few moments of basking in frost, Arturius returned from the outside.

“I hate the cold,” he said without shivering this time.

“So what did you mean by 'They can't be killed'?”

Arturius' bottom lip quivered slightly as his mind traveled back to the horror he witnessed. “We tried before. It was a slaughter.”

“I just wounded one. If they can bleed, they can die!”

Arturius scowled. “That's the thing. We did put it down. You know what happened before morning light?”

Serana shrugged at the question. “It got up and flew away?” She reflected the attitude Arturius gave her about the prophecy with the sun.

“It was more than just that!” Arturius' was wrinkled with anger and horror. “The thing was dead! We burned it to a bare skeleton and we were going to bury the bones the next day. We never got the chance to do so because another dragon showed up. It was massive and black. Its voice was thunderous. It...It just started chanting.”

Serana was now intrigued. “Never would have thought that dragons knew necromancy.”

The elf shook his head. “It wasn't necromancy like how you and I know of. It was alive. Not just an empty, moving vessel. It was alive in both body and soul!”

“Okay, okay! I get it.” The vampire sighed heavily, looking out the window towards the sky above. She wanted to make sure the dragon was truly gone. “So what do we do about this?” she asked, turning around to face Arturius.

“Nothing that can be done,” The Dunmer stated coldly. “I would rather focus on how to stop your father from ending the world. We at least have a better idea and plan than we do stopping the dragons.”

“Just can't believe they are alive again.”

Arturius cleared off one of the snowed covered seats and sat down, holding his head in his hands. “I am not even sure what to do anymore. Dragons coming back to live, vampires wanting to block out the sun...How can it get an-”

“Don't finish that sentence or it will!”

“Superstitious much?” Arturius asked.

“I can be. Nothing wrong with that, is there?” she said with a smile as she sauntered over to the sitting elf. He brushed off the seat next to him but was taken by surprise over the vixen straddling his lap instead. Her fingers ran through Arturius' soft and fine hair in a teasing manner.

“I am still drained from this morning,” he said, smiling back at Serana as he held her hips.

“Still can't keep up with me?” she purred in a tantalizing way. Serana protruded her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

“Can you blame me?” Arturius rested his cheek on her chest. Although there wasn't a heartbeat, it was still comforting to feel her.

“You're learning though.” Serana leaned down and kissed the man she deemed so irresistible.

Arturius pulled back, trying to catch his breath. “Why are you so affectionate? Not that I am complaining or anything.”

Serana stroked his face, amused by the sentiment. It was a nice change of pace from her first encounter. It was strange to feel compassion directed towards her. A strange yet comforting feeling. The degradation and obedience Serana had faced was more normal for her, despite her hatred of it.

“I guess this is the first time I ever really felt someone care for me instead of only what I can do for them,” she crooned. “Unless you are only interested in keeping me safe until after this business with my father is settled?”

“And afterward too...if you want?” Arturius started to worry, wondering if Serana would only keep him around as well until after her father is stopped. He wasn't sure if he was just a bodyguard or more of a friend; a lover even.

“Of course I do,” Serana promised with a whisper. “Just...don't be like the ass you were last night.” She stared into the windows of Arturius' soul, pouring her will into him. “Please?”

He gazed back, unblinking. Arturius knew the vampire sitting on his lap could control his every action and thought. Serana didn't even have to if she asked nicely. “What happened last night exactly?”

“The way you behaved...” Serana paused, wishing he would avoid asking such a question. “Don't worry about it, okay? You were just rude...and it hurt.”

Arturius nodded at her request, no wishing to push the issue further. “Will apologizing mean anything?”

Serana leaned forward with a soft smile, her forehead touching his. “Only if you don't have to repeat it for the same thing.”

“Yes, m'lady,” Arturius responded back, kissing the coveted woman.

Serana tugged on his bottom lip, biting gently before letting go. “Your lady? I like that.” Serana glided off his lap and held her hand out to assist the Dunmer on his feet. “You going to escort your lady to the college now?”

Arturius smiled wolfishly when he scooped her up in his thick arms. “How about I carry you instead?”

“It takes almost two days by horseback. I'll be fine walking.” She tried to squirm her way free but he held on.

“With it being day, I don't want you to end up weakened.”

Serana smirked, giggling at overly sweet he was trying to be. “Just don't over do it, okay?”

Arturius nodded when he moved towards the door. His resolve became as steeled as the armor he was wearing. The vampire curled up in his cradling arms, appreciating the gesture nonetheless.

* * *

Ysolda sat curled up in the iron cage, too afraid to make any movement. The dark cave started to stink since Herleif tried to fight back against his captor. Instead of biting his neck, the creature tore out his throat. The bubbling and gurgling from him choking on blood made Ysolda gag. She knew she needed to keep what little food she gets down to survive.

The faint light of torches adorned the walls, giving the Nord enough to see the grotesque and mutilated corpse next to her. Rats were already started to expose bone. She wondered how long she would have to last before such a fate welcomes her as well.

Light footsteps could be heard, making Ysolda obediently stand. The cage door rattled open as she stared into the glowing orange eyes once again. His fangs gleamed as he sneered, grabbing his prey by the hair and forcing her head to the side for easier access to the neck. She didn't even whimper as the teeth sunk in, taking heavy gulps of her life force. The vampire was satisfied once again. He didn't even say a mocking comment this time as he slammed the gate shut.

After collapsing on the hard ground, the vampire took pause. “Can't have you dying on me now, sweetheart.” He threw a canteen made of cow skin into her cell. “Drink up,” he commanded before heading out of the cave.

Ysolda weakly brought the container to her lips, nursing on it slowly. She put the cork back in and dropped the canteen. She didn't want to keep living as his feed bag anymore and the tormenting thirst would be her way out of the ordeal. No matter how much she tried to suppress the thirst, her body would force her to survive. Ysolda drained the rest of the reserves and was left with disappointment. She had to live another day as blood cattle.

* * *

Nova opened the door that lead to the underground tavern of thieves. Silence washed over everyone. It wasn't a calm quiet either. She could sense the tension in the air. The assassin made her way over to Brynjolf, curious as to why the thief performed the Black Sacrament.

“Brynjolf,” Nova said coldly. “It was to my understanding that we do not mix our business together. What brought this change?”

There was pain in his voice when he responded. “It was unanimous with everyone.”

“Okay? That doesn't answer my question,” she sternly said with irritation. “Why did you summon the Dark Brotherhood?”

Brynjolf gulped heavily. “O-our leader. We wa-I mean, need him dead.”

“Oh?” the killer said with interest. She pulled up a chair and rested her feet on the table. “Would it not be easier and cheaper to stage a coup d'etat without me?”

“It's not that simple, lass.” He pointed towards a vault door that was ajar. Nova glanced over and saw it was empty.

“And?”

“That vault was filled with hundreds of thousands of septims worth of treasures!” the Nord shouted, his raging face almost matching the color of his hair. “It's all gone!”

Nova shook her head. “I am not interested in treasure hunting.”

“I understand that but we still need you to –”

“And how do you plan to afford such a service?” she questioned before he could finish his request.

Brynjolf took a chair opposite of Nova as he rested his balled up fists on the table. “Once you have him, we will pay extra afterward. Just keep him alive to let us know where he stashed everything.”

“Uh-huh. I don't do fronts in this line of work,” Nova said with dissatisfaction. The hope drained from not just Brynjolf's eyes but everyone around. He hung his head low at the objection. “But...I guess I can make an exception just this one time. However, I want 20% of the take.”

Brynjolf's head jolted upward. “20%?! Are you goddamn mad?!” Everyone stood shocked over the outburst from the redhead.

Nova chuckled, sending a chill down everyone's spine. She leaned close up to Brynjolf who scowled at the assassin. “Mad would be talking to me like that as well as thinking it's better to lose all your treasure than just a percentage. I also can turn down a contract if the terms are not agreeable. So tell me...Who really sounds mad?”

“But 20%...That is a lot you are asking for.”

“Better than nothing,” Nova replied as she leaned back in her chair. “I will give you this offer. I won't charge you more for any extra services you want like I normally would. Flat fee just for you.”

Brynjolf thought about it as he looked at his fellow thieves. A few of them didn't know what to think but Mallory gave a reluctant nod to the terms. That was the only answer he needed. “Fine...Deal,” he agreed, turning his eyes back to Nova. “But we want him alive. Understand?”

Nova smirked at how well she could negotiate and bending people to her will. “I'll keep him alive for as long as he is needed. However, Mercer is my kill. If anyone takes that away, that person will take his place.”

“Aye...Divines bless you lass.”

“Shush. Just tell me where he is,” she demanded, not wanting to waste any more time.

“Wait,” the thief stated with confusion. “I thought since you could find the contract, you could find the target as well?”

Nova sighed heavily. “No. You do the Sacrament and your voice is heard in the void. You open yourself up to be found in such a way. The target however, offers no such link.”

“So...it's hopeless then?”

Another sigh escaped her lips. “I didn't say that. It just takes longer is all.”

“I might know where he is,” a soft voice spoke up. Everyone turned their attention towards the hooded woman. She sauntered over to the table where the business arrangement was being made but did not sit. Upon closer look, the woman turned out to be a Dunmer like Arturius. She did her best to not let her prejudice show as it only really applied to the cur she despised so.

“And do share...umm...”

“Karliah,” she answered.

“Do tell me what you know.”

“Several years ago, Mercer became our leader after our former one was murdered. He blamed me for it bu-

Nova interrupted. “I meant, where Mercer is now; not your life story.”

Karliah huffed at the insulting manner. “There is this dwarven ruin that is rumored to contain a large and priceless artifact. It alone is worth more than everything the vault could ever hold.”

Nova cracked her knuckles, getting bored with all the needless details. “Still do not see why you need me for such an endeavor. You got a big enough gang to stop him yourselves.”

Brynjolf took field of the question before the elf could. “We can't fight him. We need the best there is and you're it, lass.”

“You flatter me,” Nova smirked. She withdrew her feet off the table and stood up to stretch. “But it's your gold.”

“When do we leave?” an eager Karliah asked. Nova could hear the thirst of revenge on her voice.

“We? Who said anything about me needing help?”

“I can take you to him!” The fierce elf stood against the assassin, her violet eyes yearning for retribution.

Nova pondered the idea. “It would be easier and faster to lead the way...” It took only a few seconds for the assassin to make up her mind. “Fine. However, you are to lead me to the place. Once there, you stay out of my way. Understood?”

Karliah nodded. “How soon do we depart?”

“Tomorrow morning. It took a day and a half to get here and I am tired.”

“But..It's morning now,” the elf protested. “We can leave tonight.”

Nova chuckled which made everyone else who wasn't Karliah nervous. “And I said, tomorrow.”

“But he mig-”

“If you have a problem with that, then I will take my leave and you can handle it yourself. Understood?”

Brynjolf stood and apologized on her behalf. “It's fine, Nova. Tomorrow it is.” He hoped that was enough to diffuse the situation.

“Good. I'll be in the tavern come dawn's light.” When Nova approached the exit, she took one last cold look at the Dunmer. “And elf...I suggest you watch your attitude with me. I've killed more important people for lesser reasons.” The door slammed shut, almost falling off its hinges.

“We are really relying on _her_?” Karliah said with disgust.

“You have no idea who she is exactly, do you?” Brynjolf questioned the ignorant elf.

“Yeah, I know of the Dark Brotherhood. Last I heard, they nearly got wiped out.”

“And who do you think not only survived what happened but killed everyone involved? The Penitus Oculatus, the commander who lead the assault, and the Emperor himself?”

Karliah shook her head in disbelief. “That woman...She did?” she gasped with surprise.

“Aye, lass. That's who you were just mouthing off to.”

The Dunmer stood silent for a while, stunned by what she just heard. “I...I see. Guess you made a good choice in taking down Mercer then, huh?”

Brynjolf smiled, finding some joy in the unfortunate event. “And worth every coin.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a fun time writing this section, mainly with Arturius transforming. I wanted him to be feared by Serana yet feel safe at the same time around him. He is indeed a beast when he wants to be. I actually got the inspiration from a gory anime I watched where the main hero got his eye gouged out. That scene always stuck with me.
> 
> As for Nova, I had this idea in my head of her working with the thieve's guild in such a manner since Mallory had connections with the Dark Brotherhood. I figured some cross business would do some good despite earlier agreements. However, a matter as serious as this...Who else are you going to turn to?


	19. A Stitch in Time

Nova left the gates of Riften, plotting on what tools to use for capturing her mark. She didn't have a lot of options as the only things she had on her were the Razor and a fatal poison. Neither of which would offer much help in keeping Mercer alive. Nova walked by the Khajiit caravan that was relaxing by the side of the road. An idea sprung into her head.

“Morning, Ri'saad.”

“How may I be of service to Miss Moonshade?” the cat greeted in kind.

“I need a special...potion. One that will help me sleep and not move. If you know what I mean?”

“Hmm...Yes, of course.” The Khajiit stood up from his cross legged position to fetch the poison for the loyal customer. “Ri'saad assures you that you will have the best sleep ever. You will not move at all.”

Nova inspected the black liquid, appreciating how well stocked they are in the most taboo of things. She palmed him a bit of septims in return. She looked around, noticing her absent wife. “Is Ysolda running errands for you?”

The cat's whiskers twitched at her question. “She has not returned on the day she claimed to be back. We have not seen her since.”

“At all?” Nova asked, panic stirring within her.

“That is correct. Ysolda has not shown up all day. You not see her as well?” Ri’saad asked. He stroked his beard, his ears curled back slightly.

“No! She left on her way here and that was two days ago!” She was getting more and more affrighted. She held her head to try and control herself from having an outburst.

“Ri’saad will keep eyes out on her. We will let you know when we find her. Khayla will search the paths.” The Khajiit said as he waved his claw to send her out. She nodded and without a word and ran out. “Khajiit treats the lady Nords as their own.”

Nova ran alongside Khayla towards the home that she and Ysolda live in. She saw Shadowmere relaxing near the garden, pulling up fresh carrots. Ysolda scorned the horse many times for that and the fact that he was doing it again unhindered left a bad taste in Nova's mouth. The Nord rushed to the door, barging her way in.

“Ysolda!?” she called out, hoping for an answer. Something to show she was not missing. Silence filled the house. “Ysolda?!” she cried out again, searching the house from room to room. Nothing. No signs of her being there. Nova knew however that Ysolda made it home. Otherwise, Shadowmere would have given his life to protect her. He was too calm if such a tragedy occurred.

“Nova!” Khayla shouted from the entrance. “There is something you should see!”

The worried wife came charging back, rushing through the house. “What?!”

Khayla pointed to the ground outside. “There are drag marks and footprints that were not made by the likes of Ysolda or us.”

Nova looked down and saw what she meant. They were made by a man. A rather large one at that. Her first thought was Arturius. If he was involved in this, his life would be forfeit. Still, she tried to keep herself collected as anger clouded judgment.

“Let's follow the tracks then...And hope that she is alright.” A whisper of sadness escaped in her anger driven statement.

The Nord and Khajiit traced the footprints. Both were thankful that there were drag marks. Either the person was weak or stupid enough to not pick up the kidnapped woman. The tracks led to a forgotten cave hidden in a desolate forest. Nova was ready to go in first but felt a hairy paw on her shoulder.

“Humans cannot see in the dark as well as Khajiit,” Khayla said as she made her way in first. “Be wary.”

The beast's footsteps were as quiet as Nova's due to her cat like grace. The added bonus of being able to see in the dark made it all the more easier to navigate the cave. A few turns lead to some evidence of someone living in the hallowed ground. They noticed a few torches were lit along with the stench of dead bodies. Nova tried her best to stay calm but could feel her heart pounding against her rib cage. She was worried it would echo against the rocks, giving herself away.

Khayla drew her sword out, anticipating any attack. Nova followed her example. The two kept venturing into the cave, the stench getting stronger with each step. The Khajiit halted, making Nova do the same as well.

“ _What is it?”_ the Nord whispered.

“ _There. Ysolda is there,”_ she explained as she pointed a claw towards a group of cages.

Nova's jaw dropped as she began running towards the rusted iron cells. She saw the pale skin and tangled up red hair. “Ysolda!” She didn't respond back. Nova gripped the bars tight and shook them violently. “Ysolda!” she repeated, hoping she was just asleep or unconscious.

The body stirred slowly, showing signs of life. “No...Nova?” Nova fell to her knees as she reached through the bars to touch her wife.

“Who did this to you?” she asked with a voice cracked with anger and relief. Her misty eyes watered down her cheeks.

“He's...He's still here?!” a panicked Ysolda asked as she retreated to the corner of the cage.

Before Nova could ask who she meant, a cold hand gripped her ponytail and brought the white haired Nord to her feet. He spun her around with a knife to her throat, holding her hostage against the Khajiit.

“Looks like I get another feed bag,” the vampire sneered. When Khayla took a threatening step forward, he pushed the dagger harder against Nova's throat. “Uh-uh-uh. Get any closer and I will slit her throat. Drop your weapon, fur bag.”

Khayla looked at Nova for some type of answer. The assassin smiled and nodded. The Khajiit understood and dropped her sword to the ground. Before the vampire could say anything else, Nova grabbed the hand with the weapon and twisted his wrist, causing it to snap in an instant. The creature howled in pain as Nova took her own knife and buried it deep in the skull of the man who dare laid hands on her wife. Nova ripped it out and started hacking into his neck, over and over again until the head was severed from the rest of the body.

“Are you okay, dear?” a blood soaked Nova asked, breathing heavily from the adrenaline rush.

“How did you...you find me?” Ysolda asked weakly.

“We saw the tracks by the house and led straight here,” she answered as she dug through the decapitated corpse to find the key.

The rusty gate swung open after Nova unlocked it and the two lovers were in each other's arms once again. Ysolda was still terrified but was slowly becoming more calm. “Thank you so much,” she sniffled. “I thought I was going to die.” Ysolda clung desperately on her blood drenched wife.

“Shh...I would never let anything like this happen to you ever again, love.” Nova tried to run her fingers through the dark red hair but couldn't with how much of a rat's nest it was. “Let's get you back home, okay?”

Khayla spoke up after giving the two a sentimental moment. “The caravan will be glad to hear such news.”

“Khayla!” Ysolda stumbled towards the Khajiit, giving her a hug as well.

“Glad you are safe,” she purred, comforting her fellow trader.

“I'm sorry I disappeared. I-”

“Quiet,” the Khajiit hissed. “You were taken against your will. That is not the same as disappearing. You need a few days to rest. Ri'saad would be disappointed if you didn't.”

“I...I guess so,” Ysolda said meekly.

Nova rested a hand on her wife's shoulder. “Are you able to walk, dear?”

“I'm fine,” she answered with a fake smile as her legs wobbled towards the exit.

“You're not fine,” Nova said as she grabbed under Ysolda's arm to help balance her. Khayla assisted on the opposite side so Ysolda did not have to walk out of the cave.

When they approached the outside, Ysolda flinched at the bright light. After spending two days in almost pure darkness, her eyes were too sensitive to the sun. The Nord's thoughts instantly made her worry if the vampire turned her in the process of feeding.

When they reached the house, Nova and Ysolda thanked the Khajiit trader as she went back to her caravan. Ysolda collapsed on the soft bed while Nova handed her a cup of water. “How are you holding up?”

“Scared,” Ysolda replied brokenhearted. “What if...he turned me?”

Nova looked deep into her wife's eyes. They were tired but not blood starved. She checked her teeth as well and they weren't fanged either. All the blood that has been drained only left her pale. “You're fine,” she said calmly, holding Ysolda close to her. “I'm sorry I let you travel all this way alone. I shouldn't have.”

“I'm still alive though.” Her smile was weak along with the rest of her body. The water helped slightly but she was too tired to do much else. Nova sat down on the bed despite still being covered in blood and pulled the sheets over Ysolda to help her get warm.

“I'll make sure an escort is with you from now on.” She brushed her wife's flushed cheeks. “I don't know what I would do if I lost you.”

“Won't have to rescue me anymore then?” Ysolda joked, trying to make light of the situation.

“Like I said...I'll make sure someone is with you when you travel from now on. I love you too much, Ysolda.” Nova caressed her cheek, wiping away the small trail of tears.

“As I do you,” Ysolda said back, nuzzling the hand that comforted her. “I just...I wish I was able to do something. I don't even know how to hold a sword or anything.”

Nova raised an eyebrow with interest. “Are you asking for training?”

“Could you?” Ysolda pleaded, hoping to never feel that weak ever again.

“Well...I don't know much about fighting fair though. I go for the kill and that's something I doubt you are willing to do.” Nova thought about it some more as she paced the room. She pondered on who could be a good teacher in self defense.

“What about the Compani-”

“No!” Nova fiercely said, causing Ysolda to flinch.

“Oh...Right.”

“You need a personal teacher, not a group of barbarians who go around swinging swords and fucking every whore they come across.” Nova took a deep breath to relax her clouded mind. “Why don't you ask the cats you work with? I know for a fact they are capable warriors.”

“How do you figure?”

The guilt almost surfaced but Nova buried it as deep as it would go. The illusion that Arazel used or maybe it was the actual spirit from the Khajiit she killed visited her memories. Nova steeled her nerves before speaking to Ysolda. “Wouldn't they have to be? Traveling all that much, especially in Skyrim where not a lot of people like them in the first place. If they were not capable of defending themselves, they would not be here.” She hoped Ysolda would not pick up on the half truth or the omission of her killing someone she knew...Someone she worked with and traded stories and laughter with.

Ysolda nodded, taking in the partial truth. “That makes sense. I hope they will teach me something.”

Nova let out a sigh in her mind. It worked. “You need your rest as Khayla said. Drink lots of water. We will go talk to Ri'saad in a few days, okay?”

“Yeah...Sure.” Ysolda replied lifelessly as she curled up in the blankets, still shivering from the temporary anemia.

Nova returned to the side of the bed to sit down next to her wife. She squeezed her hand gently as she leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I need to go get changed. I doubt you want to lay with someone covered in blood.”

* * *

Arturius and Serana reached the small town of Winterhold just as the morning sun was cresting past the mountains. There was nothing more than a few buildings covered in ice and snow. If it wasn't for the college, the village would be dead. Serana was shocked at the changes from when she attended so long ago. A time before the Great Collapse took out most of the hold.

“What in the world happened?” Serana gasped.

“People are still arguing about it. Some say magic blew up half the place while the magi only protected the college. Others claim an earthquake or the sea eroding the cliff,” Arturius replied to the best of his ability. “Don't think we will ever find the answer.”

“Gods...There used to be a bakery over there. It made the best crème rolls.” The vampire gazed all around with disappointment. The nostalgia was ruined for her as nothing was the same. The college town she knew and loved was dead. She strolled past the sparse buildings and towards the entrance of the college. Nervousness set in when an Altmer approached the two.

“Halt! The gate is closed,” she said with authority. The elf was of small stature. However, physical strength was not needed. Both the adventurers probably assumed she knew enough magic to send them to the plains of Oblivion or beyond.

“We are seeking information about the Elder Scrolls,” Arturius said, keeping himself composed without being intimidating.

The high elf shook her head. “We do not have any here. Even if we did, they would be kept under the strictest of safe keeping.”

“That's nice,” Serana said with a devilish smile. “We are not looking for one. We want to know how to read one.”

The college gate keeper was confused over what she meant by that. Her jaw then dropped when she noticed a large parchment on her back. “Is...Is that!?”

Serana nodded. “So I say again...We seek information about the Elder Scrolls.”

“Y-y-yes. Of course! Come in!” she said with enthusiasm. “I am Faralda. I specialize in the field of destructive magic.”

“Arturius Ras’zagal,” the dark elf said formally, withholding his title with the Companions.

“A Dunmer with an Imperial name that has a Nord accent?”

“I get that a lot,” Arturius chuckled falsely over hearing that.

“I see...And you?” Faralda inquired when she looked at the woman beside him.

“Serana,” she greeted in kind.

“This way then,” Faralda said as she walked up the narrow stone path to the college.

Arturius followed the two ladies nervously. The bridge strung itself over the rocky shore below by a hundred feet. Curiosity got the better of the Dunmer as he looked over the edge.

“Are you okay?” Serana asked, seeing the pale elf.

“Yeah...Fine,” Arturius said with a cough. He moved stiffly, afraid of the stone ledge giving way from under him. His breathing was quickening and becoming more shallow, turning into small gasps as they crossed the ravine to the college. When they reached the end of the bridge, Arturius let out a sigh of relief. Serana tried to quietly snicker but he heard her anyway.

“Before we go any further...” The teacher turned around to face the two nervous subjects before her as to what she was going to say next. “When it comes to those who wish to join, I-”

“Wait,” Arturius interrupted. “We're not interested in joining. We just need information then be on our way.”

“Oh,” the high elf said with some relief. “Well, the research and materials we have are restricted to those who are enrolled or teaching, I'm afraid.”

Serana rolled her eyes. “I was a student here before. Does that mean anything?”

The teacher scoffed at the notion. “I've been here with the college for many years. You would had to have been a child barely learning to walk if you were here before me.”

“I was here before the collapse. I even knew Shalidor right after he founded this college. I even have an Elder Scroll and still, you hinder me?” Serana challenged the elf's position with unwavering fortitude.

“That's impos-” Faralda stopped mid-sentence and took a step closer, looking the woman deep in her eyes. The answer suddenly became clear. “I see...So you're a vampire.” Both Arturius and Serana were surprised at how calm she was saying that.

“Is that a problem?”

The elf pondered on it for a moment. “Hmm...I suppose that...You haven't been expelled, have you?”

“No, I haven't. I just stopped going after I knew more than the teachers.”

Faralda spun on her heels and started walking towards one of the large doors in the college. “You may follow me to the Arcanaeum. Urag should be able to find anything needed with how much he keeps the library maintained. I doubt our logs go that far back through.”

They moved up the spiraling stairs; their footsteps echoing off the cold and smooth stone walls. The Altmer opened the ornate wooden doors, carved with mystical swirls and patterns. The library contained what seemed to be every copy of every piece of literature known and unknown. Rows upon rows of books circled Arcanaeum with a large lobby desk in the center where a white bearded orc sat.

“Urag, I need you to dig through the archives.”

“For what exactly?” he grunted.

“Enrollment records from the First Era.”

Urag started to laugh at the request. “That's a good one.”

Faralda folded her arms across her chest and sighed. “Today please.”

The orc stood up from his comfy chair, hunching over the desk he treats as a domain. “You know how many people were here in the First Era? Need to be more specific because I am not searching through two millenniums worth of records to find...who exactly?”

Serana grabbed a quill off the desk and wrote her name on a scrap of paper before handing it to the orc. “Check around the time the college was founded,” she said, amused by the old orc's attitude.

“Serana Volkihar?” Urag asked, looking over the name.

“That's what it says.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“Humor us,” the high elf said.

“Yeah, yeah,” the librarian drawled as he disappeared in the back to check the records.

“Volkihar...I just realized I never knew your last name till now,” Arturius said.

“You never asked, Mr. Ras’zagal,” Serana teased with flirtation.

“Also...” The Dunmer leaned in close for only the vampire to hear. “First era was over four thousand years ago. How does that not...faze you?”

“And would reacting with shock, crying about how long it's been, and wishing for it to be different change anything?”

“I guess not.” Arturius curled his lips, biting on the skin in nervous habit. “If you were to take away the time spent in that sarcophagus, how old are you?”

“I stopped aging when I was twenty-seven so that is the age you see me as now. However, I spent over a decade as a vampire before being locked away. So...twenty-seven by looks, almost a hundred by experience, and over two thousand by existence.”

“Oh...”

“How about you?”

“I turn twenty-six in a few months,” he said sheepishly.

“That bother you being with an older woman?” Serana titillated as she ran her fingers under his goatee, twisting the hairs gently. “So nice to have such a strapping young lad at my side.”

“Now you are making it creepy,” Arturius curtly replied as he took a step away from her.

Before both the elves could feel even more uncomfortable, Urag returned with a yellowed and dusty parchment. “If I hadn't of seen it with my own eyes, I would not of believed it.” He opened the scroll and unrolled it as delicately as possible. “Here is your name.” He pointed halfway down the list, showing what she said was true. The orc then placed the piece of paper Serana gave him next to it. Not just the same name but the same penmanship as well.

“So based on this technicality, I am still a student and therefore, have access to the research materials that I need?”

Faralda scoffed at the Nord. “Yes...” she said sternly before looking at Arturius. “And what about you?”

Before Arturius could say anything, Serana spoke up in his defense. “Under the guise of the college, students of magic are allowed an escort of their choosing,” she stated with a smile. “He is my sword and shield.”

“Of course,” the Altmer responded with frustration after having the rules used against her the way she did with everyone else. “Hope you find what you are looking for.” Faralda walked away, trying to save face as she exited the library.

“So what is this all about then?” the book keeper asked as he carefully rolled the ancient scroll back up.

“We need information on Elder Scrolls,” Serana said. “Mainly, how to read one.”

“And why, pray tell, do you need to know that? Unless you have one, it would be pointless.”

Serana turned around instead of answering, showing off the Elder Scroll before facing him once again. The look on Urag's face almost made Serana snort in a fit of laughter.

“By the Gods...To see one in my lifetime...” the orc gasped with utter shock and surprise.

“So...Do you have any knowledge on how to read one?” Serana was getting irritated over how many times she has asked this question.

“I'll get what I know,” Urag said as he got up from his chair. “Don't go messing up the books either! There is a place for everything and everything is in its place.”

Serana and Arturius stood awkwardly as the orc shuffled his way through the order of books, looking through the massive collection. Serana took a gander at the shelves, running her fingers over the volumes. A plethora of unread publications greeted the curious Nord. The Brief History of the Empire series was something that intrigued her the most. Although it would probably take her weeks of uninterrupted reading to get through them all, she wanted to know what has happened over the course of the last few millenniums.

“Alright, here you go.” Urag returned with a pair of books that haven't been touched for decades it seems.

“Effects of the Elder Scrolls and Accounting of the Scrolls,” Arturius read on the covers. “We already know of the possible effects though.”

“And? You asked for books on the Scrolls and I got them for you. You're welcome,” Urag growled slightly.

“Thank you,” Serana said as she cracked open the second book. “Is there another copy of this one for him to read?”

“Yeah, sure. Let me pull one out of my ass.” The orc returned back to his desk and started reading. “And put those books on my desk when you are done. If you try and put it back yourself, I will probably have to fix it myself later.”

“Someone sure is grumpy,” Arturius muttered.

“Still helped though,” Serana mentioned as she sat down to transverse through what the writings had to offer. Arturius occupied the chair opposite of her as he thumbed through the pages of the other book he already read a while ago.

They sat for over an hour, trying to find any new information on how to read the scroll. Arturius was nodding off, almost leaving a drool stain on the pages. Although he had a thirst for knowledge that could match his appetite, he wasn't learning anything new. More than once, the orc yelled at him for using the book as a pillow. Serana was too buried in study to notice that Arturius stood up to stretch his tired legs to go outside.

“Find anything?” Urag asked, picking up the book that Arturius left behind haphazardly.

“Huh? What?” Serana asked as she took her nose from out of the pages.

“Have you found anything?” he repeated.

“I am not sure,” Serana said with dubiety. “I keep seeing mentions of 'Moth Priests'. Do you know anything about them?”

“Hmm...Strange that you ask that.”

Serana shut the book before handing it over to the strict librarian. “How so?”

The orc took possession of the literature and held it under his arm. “A few months ago, one of them came here asking about the Elder Scrolls. He seemed quite disappointed when I said we did not have any.”

“Months ago?” Serana sighed as she leaned back against the chair. “He's probably long gone by now.”

“Just going to give up then instead of asking where he might be staying at? How dedicated you are,” Urag snorted as he walked back to put the pair of books away.

“Wait!” Serana said, leaping onto her feet. “Do you know where?”

“I might. The question is; why do you need that scroll read so badly? You're already immortal from what I gathered.”

“It's not about just me,” she confessed with acquiesce. “It's to help us stop something bad from happening.”

“The dragons? Hell, it's about time someone stood up to those flying lizards.”

“Not...not exactly.”

“Then why?” Urag demanded, tapping his foot with impatience.

“If you tell me where the Moth Priest is, I will say why we need to talk to him.”

“A little _quid pro quo_ then?”

Serana stared at him, confused over the dialect he used. “A little...What?”

“Nords,” he sighed with a shaking head. “Anyway, he's said he was staying over at the Nightgate Inn; near Dawnstar. Rather or not he is still there is another question.”

“Least it is close by,” a thankful Serana said before she started to head outside to talk to Arturius.

“Before you go, care to indulge me as to why you are so desperate to get a hold of this priest?”

“To make sure the sun keeps shining,” she answered before the door slammed shut behind her.

Serana saw Arturius looking over the balcony, staring off into the sea, completely trapped in thought. She carefully snuck up behind him like a cat stalking its prey. Before she could pounce on his back, he spoke up.

“You know I can smell you a mile away, right?” He turned around to rest his back against the wall, facing Serana. “Need something?”

“Pfft...You're no fun,” she pouted as she sat on the recess of the archway. “How come you left?”

“Just grabbing some fresh air is all. Plus I hate sitting for that long. Legs get too restless.”

“I see. Anyway, I got some news for you,” Serana said with excitement in her eyes. “We might have found someone who is able to read the scroll.”

“Yeah?” Arturius replied casually.

“Don't get too excited now. Do you know where the Nightgate Inn is? Urag said it's near Dawnstar.”

“Joy. More goddamn traveling,” the hunter groaned with irritation as he slid down against the terrace wall.

Serana looked into the bright red jewels of his scowling eyes. “What's wrong?”

“Tired, hungry, sore...Take your pick!” When Arturius looked back into her eyes, Serana was once again mortified by his sudden change in behavior.

“You are being an ass again,” she said sternly as she got closer to smell his breath. It didn't reek of mead or ale like last time. “At least before, you had an excuse of not being sober.”

Arturius launched himself onto his feet and flew past her, marching towards the bridge to leave when Serana grabbed his shoulder. She hated doing it to someone else almost as much as they do it to her. The hunter paused, turning just his head to stare a single fuming eye at her. “What?” he growled.

“I don't know what the hell your problem is. You've been acting like this for the last couple of days but enough is enough,” Serana said with matched anger. “If you keep this up, we are going to have to part ways...Understand?”

The corner of Arturius' mouth twitched as he tried to control his inner beast. The pupils of his eyes dilated menacingly, making Serana nervous as to what the elf before him was going to. Still, she did not know what was triggering the dormant behavior that he has buried within.

Arturius took in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. He rubbed his forehead with a shaking hand as if trying to stop his thoughts from escaping. “I'm...sorry. I sometimes get like this with the approach of the full moons. Usually a few drinks helps calm down.”

“I told you not that drinking is not the way to deal with...” Serana's voice halted before finishing the sentence. “When you said that is how you deal with the horrors, it wasn't about the townspeople that got killed...Was it?”

Arturius' heart hit his stomach.

“It was about keeping that part of you under control the only way you know how. The way you dealt with those Thalmor...Gods, Arturius.” Serana's voice started to crack from the weight of the shock.

The elf stood silent. Her skills of deduction left him hollow inside as she drew out the inner workings that he kept secret. She knew all this without him confessing anything. “I...umm...” Arturius tried to speak but didn't know how to articulate the words properly. “Werewolves feast on hearts. You're probably thinking how it's ironic that I've been fighting vampires for the last several months and called them vile blood suckers.”

“That does raise questions,” Serana said with agreement. “How can you eat the hearts of men and mer bu-”

“I don't,” Arturius snapped. “I never have.”

The vampire tilted her head, amazed by his self control. Although, she could sense his will was being overshadowed by the inner beast at times. The look of pure killer instinct with the high elves and the rage in his voice after she sampled his blood. The wolf inside was trying to break free.

“So why?” Serana asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Why haven't you eaten a heart?”

“I just...I find the idea of doing that to someone abhorrent. I mean, ripping out someone's heart and eating it?” Arturius shook his head at the idea of performing such an atrocity. “I can't.”

“How do you manage it when...” Serana shifted her stance more defensively. “You know?”

“I am not a complete animal, Serana. I still control myself.” Arturius took an uneasy step closer to the vampire. She stood rigid, unsure of what the Dunmer was going to do. “It's hard to explain...I know I've talked about the wolf in me but in reality...We're no- _I'm_ not two separate things. I am the wolf and the wolf is me.”

“So where are you going with this?”

“I...I forgot.” Arturius scratched the back of his neck in usual habit. “I am going to warn you though. It's going to be rough the next few days.”

“That sounds like a lovely time.” Serana rolled her eyes in disbelief as she took a step towards to close the distance between the two of them. “Do you regret being a werewolf?”

Arturius' menacing eyes burned into hers. “No,” he quipped.

“It wasn't meant as an insult. Okay? I was just wondering if you had second thoughts about being a werewolf.”

“Yeah, I have. The only reason why I haven't cured myself is because I feel the same way about being an elf. Sure, people are racist pricks a lot of the times. I get called grey skin and whatever else. But to cure myself of being a lycan...Might as well trims my ears and change my skin color while you're at it.”

“Forget it then,” Serana huffed with defeat as she walked down towards the bridge. “I need my beauty sleep and this is the first time in days I get to sleep while the sun is out.”

Arturius followed her on the way back to town, too worked up to even care about the how high he was from the rocky shore below. He opened the door to the inn for the exasperated vampire. When she didn't hear the heavy metal footsteps follow her, she turned around to see the door closing. She grasped hold of it and opened it up to see Arturius walking away.

“Where are you going?”

“Hunting,” he said curtly, walking down the snow trodden path to the barren and mountainous tundra that challenged him.

Serana didn't respond back and let the door slam shut. She paid the innkeeper and sat alone in the dark room, alone with her thoughts. Anxiety over Arturius took precedence instead of the urge to sleep. She tossed and turned for the most part, trying to find a comfortable position. The soothing and flickering candlelight offered some solace as she stared at it. The dying light watched the vampire fall asleep before going out.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am honestly not 100% sure if I am correct on Serana's age and her last name. I did research and she could either be first era or second. Both of which are a few thousand years apart. I decided to go with the first era and add some flair for some background story.
> 
> As for the last name, she is part of the Volkair clan. So...Why not have it as her last name if she is the princess and all?
> 
> If I am wrong, oh well. It's a fan fic.


	20. Sinful Appetite

Nova walked into the Ragged Flagon, eying for the man in charge. No one dared look at the assassin in the eyes as she marched her way over to Brynjolf. The red headed Nord finished off his drink before wiping the foam from the stubble around his mouth. “What is it, lass?”

“A protection order for Ysolda,” she requested as she sat down in the creaky chair. “I need to make sure she makes it to and from here safely from now on.”

A heavy sigh let Nova know the answer before he spoke up. “We are spread thin as is. I do-”

“I'll leave now to hunt down Mercer as well as knocking down the price to 15%,” she offered, hoping to cut the conversation short.

Brynjolf was thankful he was finished with his ale as he would have choked on it after hearing that deal. “As sweet as the offer is, why don't the cats help her out?”

Nova scooted her chair back, propping herself back on her feet. “Well, if you don't want it...”

“Now wait a second...I didn't turn it down. I was merely curious is all.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Nova replied with a sinful smile.

“And satisfaction brought it back,” Brynjolf chimed back as raised two fingers up. Vekel came by soon after with a pair of mugs. Nova declined at the offer. Brynjolf shrugged and took hers. “Did something happen with your lady recently?”

A stern look of morbidness answered the question. “Deal or no?”

Brynjolf tilted his chair backwards, rocking it he as contemplated the idea. “Is there any particular person you have in mind?”

“A bruiser of sorts. Someone who can handle their own and break a few faces,” Nova requested.

“Hmm...Dirge is the first person that comes to mind,” the thief offered.

“As long as he can do the job, I couldn't care less.”

“I trust him,” Brynjolf assured with confidence.

Nova smirked at the comment. “Like you did with Mercer?”

“Very funny, lass,” the dejected outlaw said before whistling Dirge over. “How do you feel about security detail?”

“Depends. How long and how much?” Dirge asked in a gruff voice.

Nova answered with the terms she found applicable. “Escorting Ysolda to and from Riften every morning and night. An hour out of your day for 500 septims a week.”

“That's...a lot of coin,” Dirge said with awe. “Sure you can affo-”

Nova dropped a heavy sack that jingled with gold. “And a 50% bonus as an incentive.”

The bouncer palmed the bag and weighed it. “I call that a deal,” he agreed with a smirk of joy and greed.

“Good. When Ysolda comes by, you let her know. You follow her home and show up there at the break of dawn to escort her back. Simple as that.”

“Am I expecting any threats?” Dirge asked as he tied the bag in his inner vest.

“Maybe...Maybe not.”

“Hmph...Alright then,” the bouncer turned bodyguard said before walking away to get a drink.

“Onto the matters at hand then,” Brynjolf said with a darkened tone in his voice. “Remember – Alive.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know the deal. Would not be the first time I kept a contract alive,” Nova said with twisted pride.

“Riiight,” Brynjolf said nervously. “Karliah's probably ready to go.”

Nova stood up from her chair and leaned dangerously close to the fellow Nord. “Are you ordering me around, Brynjolf?” she asked sharply and cold.

“N-n-no.” He gulped heavily. “Not at all.”

Nova smiled sadistically at the terrified thief. She reached over and caressed his cheek, making him flinch. “You're cute when you're scared,” she said, raking her fingertips gently across his face as she walked away to talk to the Dunmer.

“You ready?” Karliah asked as she inspected her ebony bow and stuffed a bundle of heavy fur clothes in her pack.

Nova looked over her glamorous and exquisite weapon. “That's a damn fine bow you have there,” the assassin complemented with envy.

“You've done archery?” Karliah asked with piqued interest.

“Not since my bow got broken,” Nova seethed but soon regained her composure. “But let's not waste any more time. Where are we heading?”

“How do you feel about dwarven ruins?”

“Hate 'em.”

Karliah laughed with agreement. “There's one ruin that holds a valuable treasure that Mercer has be-”

“Great,” Nova interrupted as she walked out the door. “Let's not keep him waiting then.”

Karliah fumed at the assassin's rude mannerisms and reluctantly followed. “Do you have something against elves?”

“Just one. Unless you keep bothering me, then it will be two,” Nova answered, walking briskly through the catacombs. “All I care about is this contract. Not your feelings, not your story, not the reason why we're doing this. You are a guide. That's all.”

“I am more useful than that!” the Dunmer said through gritted teeth. “I know how to shoot a bow better than anyone I ever met.”

“Except, you met me. Now, do you have a horse?”

“Mercer killed him,” she sighed.

“Get yourself another or you can walk the rest of the way back on return from the ruin.”

“So you are willing to hitch me a ride there but not back?”

Nova stopped and turned around to face Karliah. “A horse cannot carry three people. Mercer won't be able to move and dragging him would kill him. So...Bring a horse or walk back.” The Nord continued her ascent towards the exit of the underground guild. “Be lucky I warned you beforehand.”

“Thanks,” Karliah said with sarcasm.

The two of them walked out of the Ratway where the setting sun offered the last of its light before fading into the into the horizon to welcome the gloaming. The two ladies headed towards the stables for Karliah to get a horse. Nova let Karliah take direction as she didn't like any other equine except Shadowmere. Neither one traded words as they made their way to Nova's house.

“Where are these ruins? I noticed you packed some winter gear so I assume somewhere up north?”

“Near Dawnstar.”

Nova rolled her eyes at the constant back and forth. However, she was thankful she didn't have to walk this time around. They stopped at the hidden house among the trees. The Nord hopped off. “Give me a few minutes.” The assassin went inside the house to collect the needed clothing and furs for her journey up the winter wasteland.

Nova came out with a heavy pack and threw the saddlebags on Shadowmere despite his heavy snorts of protests. Karliah was awestruck by the beauty of the dark fur and blazing red eyes of the beast.

“Lead the way, Karla,” Nova said as she hopped up on her steed.

“Karliah,” the elf corrected as she yipped to her horse to gallop.

“Close enough,” Nova muttered as Shadowmere followed the elf into the ever darkening night.

* * *

Serana stretched her arms towards the ceiling, feeling refreshed. Although a bit thirsty, the slumber energized her. She sat up to see Arturius sitting in a chair, reading a tattered book with torn pages.

“Evening,” the elf said without taking his eyes away. “Sleep well?”

“For the most part,” she answered through a yawn. “How was the hunting?”

“Got a small deer,” he answered as he flipped a page. The worn spine didn't hold the paper and caused the leaflet to fall from the book. Arturius muttered under his breath as he tossed the novel on the table. “Let me know when you are ready.”

Serana rubbed her eyes, trying to get them to focus. “I need to get something to drink first.”

Arturius did his best to hide his repugnance towards her feeding habits. The look in her eyes made it clear she knew how he felt. Still, they both said nothing about what the other was thinking.

“Go do your thing then,” he vouchsafed, not wanting to cause any argument.

Serana crawled out of bed, her body as naked as the day she was born. Arturius stared, feeling his heartbeat elate. Serana smiled when she heard the palpitation in his chest and got closer to the elf, swaying her hips seductively. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, appreciating how he truly felt.

“What was that for?” Arturius questioned.

Serana sat down to straddle his lap, wrapping her delicate arms around his thick neck. “I know you care about me, Arturius. I know you probably have felt conflicted over it.” The vampire brushed away his dark hair that covered part of his face. She rested her palm on his cheek, caressing the scar he bore.

Arturius sat stiffly, unsure of how to respond both physically and verbally. “I...What are you saying?”

“Oh, Arturius...” she sighed, crestfallen over his obliviousness. “I know how you feel each time I hunger – both for you and blood. You can't have desire and passion for that which you find repulsive as well.”

The hunter took those words in. He shifted his gaze away from the woman before him, feeling shame over his actions. “I agree,” Arturius confessed, clenching his fists as tight as his jaw.

Serana brought her soft hand under his chin, forcing his gaze to meet hers. “You have no qualms over me sexually. We embraced each other in such a way.” She took a deep and shuddering breath, trying to keep her voice from cracking. “I am not asking to feed from you. Just please...Don't look at me like I am a monster when you know – you _know_ what I need to do to survive.”

Arturius did not even flutter a blink. “I do know,” he said through heavy breath. “I never would have thought that a week ago, I would fall; both for you and from the Dawnguard...”

Serana removed herself from the elf's lap and went to gather her clothes. “You didn't have to do such a thing. I would have been fine on my own.”

“I have no regrets on the choices I have made,” the Dunmer said with conviction as he stood up, approaching the pallor beauty. “And to prove to you that I think not of you a monster...I offer you this.” Arturius pulled his hair back and exposed his neck.

Serana turned around to see what he meant by those words and was caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. She stood paralyzed by the notion. “I...I can't,” she said softly, turning him down.

Arturius straightened his head up with a look of confusion. “You already have against my will and now when it's freely given, you turn it down?” Arturius scoffed, not understanding the the reason in her logic.

“It's not that,” Serana defended herself as she got dressed. “You don't mean it. You're compromising your beliefs and for what? To appease me?”

"How else can I prove myself?” he demanded with outstretched arms.

“Prove yourself? To me?” Serana asked, slipping the black and crimson corset around her chest. “Why, when you already have in other ways?”

“No!” Arturius growled. “Not to you – for me; to state that I feel disgust towards you but still care. How else can I get over the duality of opposing feelings?”

“So let’s get this straight...You want me to feed off you to make yourself feel better towards me?”

Arturius stared, his tongue seized over the realization of how asinine he sounded through her words. He stood in silence to Serana's question and faced away from her in embarrassment. Her quiet steps drew closer, arcing around to his side till they paused in front of him.

“Sit,” she commanded him.

“What?”

“I said...” Serana paused for a moment, her eyes turning a glowing orange. “Sit.”

“Sit,” Arturius repeated blankly, doing as bidden.

The vampire loomed over him, resting her hands on his shoulders. “Tell me what you want of me.”

“Your happiness and safety,” Arturius said, as if a zombie.

“Do you hate that drink blood?” she interrogated further, drawing out the answers receded deep in the depths of the hunter's mind.

“Only if you feed on others instead of me,” he confessed.

The answer startled Serana, breaking the spell of the hypnosis on the elf. Arturius blinked a few times as he regained composure. A headache ensued shortly after; one that he was familiar with. “Did you just...?” the Dunmer asked, rubbing his temples.

“Yes. I needed answers and you gave quite a surprising one at that.”

“And why could you not have just asked normally?” he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“I asked why you were against drinking blood and you said that it only bothered you if it was other people and not yourself. That makes zero sense because the first time I did, you were consumed with rage.”

“I was sleeping!” Arturius yelled in reply, standing up to tower over her.

Serana, once again, flinched under the fear of the elf's lashing out. She fortified her resolve regardless, standing close enough to feel heated breath. “I taste your blood and I almost thought you were going to kill me. I don't and you hide jealousy with disgust? Choose a side and stick with it. I have little trust for someone who fights with himself as well as me when there is a bigger battle ahead. Understood?”

Arturius paused for a moment, studying the determined vampire before speaking in turn. “Yes, ma'am,” he grumbled before walking by her towards the door.

Serana's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, halting the elf from leaving. “I am not done with you,” she said, turning him around. She smiled, baring her gleaming fangs. “Are you sure?”

Arturius gave his answer by tilting his head to the side, exposing the throbbing vein on his neck. “I trust you,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

Despite standing on the tips of her toes, she was not able to reach her mouth even past the shoulders. Instead, she sat Arturius down on the bed and straddled his lap once again. Serana shivered as she brushed aside the long, dark hair that matched hers. She latched onto the ash toned skin, piercing flesh with her teeth. She drew upon the vessels, bathing her tongue in the warm and delicious fluid.

Arturius let out a gasp, feeling her lips but not her teeth. She continued to suck from near his throat, making them both moan tenderly. The taboo was once again broken but they both closer to one another. When Serana got her fill, she drew her fangs out, smiling with satisfaction.

“I only got a sample the last time...But by the gods, I never thought I would enjoy it this much.”

Arturius felt light headed as he fell onto the bed. “That was...quite interesting.”

“Elves always had a sweeter taste than humans,” Serana said, wiping the excess fluid from her lips with her tongue. “But the lycan part – it adds something to it. A spice of sorts.”

“Spicy and sweet?” Arturius asked as he propped himself onto his elbows. “Never liked those two flavors together.”

“No, sweetie. It's like the kind of spice you add to wine to warm you up a little. And the power...Gods, I feel like I can take on the world now!” Serana proclaimed, her hands shaking with exuberance.

“Oh shit!” Arturius said, leaning up all the way.

Serana was confused and worried. “What is it?”

“Blood...” he said with a hollow look in his eyes. “You become a werewolf by drinking the blood of one...”

Serana stared, remaining silent for a moment before breaking out into a fit of giggles. “You think I didn't know that already? It's impossible for a vampire to turn into a werewolf.” She rested her hand on the panic struck Dunmer, coaxing him to relax. “I will say, the look on your face was most amusing.”

“Well, I didn't know that! I could have turned you into...I don't even know what.”

“Vampires have been around far longer than lycans ever have. Our blood is more prominent,” Serana stated without trying to sound boastful or cause offense. “I bet I could turn you long before you could me.”

Arturius rubbed the sore, wet spot on his neck, declining the offer. “Pass.”

“I still want to know why you would offer such a thing.”

“Well – we already did other...things. Plus seeing a beauty such as yourself; I wanted to get close to you,” Arturius said in a quiet tone, trying to not feel shame for his dark and guilty pleasure.

Serana could sense the guilt within and held the hunter's head close to her chest, stroking his hair. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“For listening...For helping...For understanding. But most of all – for accepting me. I don't even know what I could do in kind.”

“We should...umm...probably get going here soon. Nightgate Inn, you said?” Arturius said, quickly changing the subject.

Serana sighed begrudgingly but went with it. “Aye. I hope you know where it's at.”

“Yeah. I'll lead the way,” he said with a forced smile.

Serana gave Arturius a look of worry, stroking his flushed cheek. He was more pale than normal. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” the elf sternly replied.

“Hmm...That's the first time you haven't been fully honest with me. I must say – I do not like it.” Serana stood up and gathered up the rest of her things; mainly the scroll.

Arturius sat silent, staring at the ground. Lethargy overcame the hunter. He rubbed the sore neck but the effort of raising his hand felt too much. Arturius tried to stand but ended up collapsing on his knees. The heavy thud startled Serana, who quickly rushed to his side.

“Arturius?!” she cried out. “What's wrong?!”

“I...don't feel so well,” he drawled.

“Arturius!” the vampire cried out to the fainting elf. His skin was pale beyond normal, causing Serana to worry. His eyes started to roll over to the back of his head. She shook him, trying to make him more alert. “Shit! Arturius!” Out of rashness, she slapped the elf, stinging her hand as much as his face.

Arturius mumbled, finding consciousness once again. “Wha-what's going on?” he moaned weakly.

A tear dropped down from Serana's cheek and onto Arturius'. “I'm sorry,” she whimpered. “I didn't mean to take so much.”

“You are...never doing this...again,” he said weakly. “Water?”

The vampire nodded before rushing to the dining area and returning with a pair of wooden cups. He gulped each one down, gasping with satisfaction. Serana curled up under the window with her legs to her chest.

“I didn't mean to take so much. You just – it was the best thing I ever tasted.”

Arturius tried to rub away the throbbing headache that pulsated in his skull. “Is that what h-happened?”

The vampire nodded with her head resting on her knees. The only sound emanating was a sniffle and slight gasps from her trying to control the hyperventilating. Arturius' legs were still shaky when he tried to stand up and decided it was best to lay down on the bed till he could properly recover. He requested more water which Serana obeyed like a beaten slave.

“Here,” Serana said, offering another pair of cups.

Arturius accepted, taking down one of them in a single gulp. “Are you okay?” the elf asked.

“Am...Am _I_ okay? I almost drained you like...like...”

“The first person you fed of off?”

The vampire's bottom lip quivered slightly when she remembered that incident. The shock of almost doing the same to Arturius stunned her. “I didn't me-”

“I know you didn't,” he said, forgiving Serana. He took the other goblet and sipped on this slowly this time. He cracked his neck to the side, feeling the ache. “Gods...How much did you take?”

Serana didn't answer and instead, curled herself up tighter, forming herself into a ball of regret.

Arturius frowned, knowing how horrible she felt. “Come here,” he requested, patting the bed for her to sit. She didn't budge. “Serana?”

She slowly lifted her head; her cheeks stained with tears. “Why?” she sniffled.

“Please?”

Hesitation took hold before she gained her bearings. The vampire acquiesced with silence as she plopped down on the bed. Her eyes gazed downward towards her feet when she felt one of Arturius' heavy arms around her shoulder.

“The first time I became a werewolf, I did far worse than what you ever did. The only thing I remember was waking up miles away and completely naked. I didn't even realize what had happened till after I went back to Whiterun. Two guards were torn to shreds by my hands – er, claws, rather. I almost wanted to cure myself after what happened.”

“Why didn't you?”

Arturius smiled slightly despite the harrowing ordeal he described. “By the time there was a cure discovered, I already felt like it was a part of me. Besides, I am in more control than before.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Serana asked, tilting her head to look Arturius in his ruby red eyes. Her cheeks were starting to dry.

“Figured you could learn something. We all make mistakes, Serana.” The elf held her close.

She rested her head on the comforting shoulder, sighing depressingly. “You have been on edge lately over the littlest of things. Then this happens and you are so...so diligent. It doesn't make any sense.”

Arturius gulped heavily at the sound of her voice cracking. “I didn't know how much of an ass I was being till you said something.”

“So...We forgive each other. Does that make us even?”

Arturius noticed the faint and saddened smile masking Serana's face. “It doesn't make us even.” The smile faded away and her eyes started to mist up. “It makes us good friends.”

“You jerk!” Serana shoved him playfully but with more force than intended, making him fall off the bed. Serana was horrified but Arturius looked up and started to crack up laughing.

“Guess I still need to recover.”

The vampire became more relaxed as she sighed. “Rest up while I head back up to the college. There's some more research I want to look up.”

“Nah. It's fine. I just need something to eat.”

Serana raised an eyebrow. “Didn't you just eat a deer?”

“That was a couple of hours ago.”

“Quite an appetite you have.”

“I'll come get you when I am done.” Arturius stood up on his wobbly legs but ceased the shaking after stretching.

“Actually, the research was just to pass the time. Let's just get going and not waste any more time than we have already. Been a week and we still haven't read this scroll yet.”

“By your command,” Arturius said, opening the door to their room.

Serana kissed his cheek as she passed by, amused by his chivalry. “I've never been hunting before. Can you...teach me?”

“Never? What about with...you know...feeding?”

“Those were all handed to me early on. As for recently, it's just a charming effect so I can get what I need. I don't think that is the same as hunting an animal in the wild.”

“You know how to use a crossbow?”

“I've never used a weapon besides magic,” Serana confessed with embarrassment.

“What about that?” Arturius asked, pointing down at the dagger that hung from her hip.

“Just as a precaution in case I run out of magic. Last resort, I guess.”

“May I?”

Serana nodded and handed him the jeweled dagger. Arturius was disappointed and she could tell. “What's wrong?”

“This isn't a weapon. It's a decoration piece, if anything.” He felt the edge of the blade to see how sharp it was and flinched at the burning sensation. “A silver blade...”

“Is that bad?”

Arturius handed the blade back to her. “It's good against werewolves but that's about it. Silver can't hold an edge and breaks easily in its pure form.”

“Pretty ironic, isn't it?” Serana giggled.

“How so?”

“We both have weapons that is the other one's weakness.”

Arturius thought about it and chuckled at her observation. “Opposites in a lot of ways. Nord and elf, vampire and-”

“Dawnguard?”

Arturius shook his head. “I was going to say werewolf. Besides, I am not one of them anymore, remember?”

“I know I said I felt bad for what happened...” Serana rested her the side of her head on his solid steel chest. “But I am sort of glad it did happen.”

Arturius kissed top of her crown, holding her close with his arms. “Silver linings can be found in the worst of things, it seems.”

Serana looked up and saw that the color has returned to his cheeks. “You look better. How are you feeling though?”

“Still hungry. You want that lesson in hunting now?”

“Sure. Lead the way,” she said, imitating Arturius' voice as well as his bow.

“Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery.”

Serana went behind him and jumped up on his back, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Let's get going!”

“Carrying you again? Alright then.” Arturius headed towards the back to pay the innkeeper. He gave a strange look at the woman he was giving a piggyback ride to but said nothing.

The dark and frigid night stung Arturius' face as the wind swept up a drift of snow in the air. “Damn, it's cold,” he complained into his hands to keep them warm.

“Come on. It's not that bad,” Serana said, as she kicked her feet gently, pretending he were a horse.

The cloud driven night sky blocked out most of the moons' rays. Although Arturius could see in the dark better than most, it was still proved rather difficult to navigate through the darkness once they reached the outskirts. Arturius knelt down to help Serana on the ground.

“What's the matter?” she inquired as she hopped off.

“Footing is not very good. I don't want to fall and end up breaking your arm.” He walked carefully, taking his time to make sure his feet would not give out from under him. His metal greaves and boots made it challenging to navigate on the tundra. Even more so at dusk.

Serana skipped through playfully, her grace and balance unhindered by the snow. She leaned down and scooped up a ball of the white powder and rolled it into a ball. “Oh, Arturius,” she sang.

As the elf turned around to see what she was wanted, he was met with a snowball to the chest. “Really? I thought you wanted me to teach you hunting?”

“I know. I just wanted you to relax a bit and not be so serious, is all.”

“Anyway,” he said, ignoring her not so subtle request. “The thing about hunting is tracking. Find the prints of the animal you are looking for and be wary of those you are trying to avoid.”

“How do you figure which footprints belong to which animal?”

Arturius squatted down and drew two elongated triangles in the snow with two dots under them. “These are your typical deer tracks. If they are large and broad, it's most likely a male. Also, the depth of the print shows weight.

“I see...So what ones do I avoid?”

Arturius drew a pair of different prints, showing claws. “These are belong to a wolf and bear. Bears are more solitary and will most likely keep to themselves as long as you do not intrude on them. However, wolves are more predatory. As long as you are with me, they should not bother you.”

“That's comforting to know,” Serana said nervously.

They both walked through the frost and snow covered woods, exploring the wilderness together. Arturius sniffed the air and turned sharply his head sharply. “Don't move,” he said abruptly.

“What is it?”

“There's someone near by. Not sure who but the smell is familiar.”

Serana looked around, inspecting each tree and shrub carefully. “I don't see anyone.”

“Neither do I, but I can smell someone,” Arturius insisted.

The vampire closed her eyes, listening for anything out of the ordinary. The rustling of pine needles and skeleton bare branches scraping each other was the only prominent noise. She could hear a heartbeat but it was Arturius'. Her ears tuned into every noise possible but nothing suspicious.

“Are you sure it wasn't someone who passed by some time ago?”

Arturius didn't answer as he focused on following his nose. He went in circles, trying to zero in on the scent. Confusion and frustration overwhelmed his mind and ended up punching the tree nearby.

Serana heard something else that caught her attention when he did that. She looked up and saw a figure hiding within the branches, blending in with the bark. “Arturius?”

 


	21. Ghost in the Fog

The shade knew it was discovered and leapt down, tucking into a roll before sprinting off. Not wanting to lose whoever was spying, Arturius gave chase. He dashed through the winter forest, trying to close the distance between them. The elf stepped on a caltrap that the figure threw behind him, piercing through the bottom of his steel clad boots. He yelled out in pain and he fell into the snow.

Serana wasn't fall behind. She stopped the pursuit to help Arturius despite his protest. “Are you okay?” she asked with worry.

Arturius nodded as he pulled out the metal spike from his foot, wincing slightly. “Just fine,” he curtly said.

“Any idea who that was?”

“A spy, most likely. I want to say he was with the Dawnguard, but I don't know of anyone with that sort of skill. They're not exactly stealth driven.” He looked at the caltrap and inspected it, seeing if it would offer any clues before tossing the bloody instrument into the snow.

“Dark Brotherhood?”

Arturius pondered the thought but shrugged. “Possible,” he grunted as he sealed up the wound in his foot. The Dunmer was irritated even more at the hole in his boot that let in a draft with each step.

“Do we follow the tracks?” Serana asked with some eagerness. “I know it's not hunting wild game but same things apply, right?”

Arturius pulled out his crossbow and made sure it was properly loaded. “Come on, before he gets too far away!”

Serana already bolted, pursuing the target. She followed the tracks but saw them soon divide in two. Not sure of what to do, she waited for the experienced hunter to catch up.

“What do we do now?”

Arturius took a closer look at the prints and noticed that the person spying on them was exceptionally good at deceiving. However, no one was perfect. He saw tiny redundancies from when he walked backwards. To make sure, he checked the other set and didn't notice any backtracking.

“This way, and watch out for those metal spikes.”

Serana lead the way since she could see better at night. They stuck to the trail of footsteps, drawing ever closer to the person. Arturius' nose could sense them closing in on the subject. The vampire held up a hand, telling Arturius to stop.

“What i-”

Before the sentence could be finished, Serana yelled out as she dove towards Arturius. A black arrow flew by, narrowly missing its target. Although it would not have been lethal, it would have crippled his walking for several days.

“This bastard is asking for it!” Arturius promised as he launched himself onto his feet, towards where the arrow flow from. He kept his shield raised, covering his vitals as he closed in on the smell. He could hear the footsteps running away. They were muffled, the same way that Nova's were when they first crossed blades. If this person was any way affiliated with her, Arturius knew he had to keep his guard up at all times.

He saw a glimpse of movement and quickly fired a bolt from his crossbow directly at it. It connected to solid wood, missing the target. He holstered the missile launcher and drew out magical flames from his fist, spewing an inferno of rage in front of him. The trees, despite being covered in snow and ice, started to incinerate from his fury. The glow gave enough to see the person retreating.

Arturius kept up the chase with Serana following close behind. She avoided the burning bushes and saw clearly the man they were chasing. He was cloaked in crystal white garments that camouflaged him in the tundra. The vampire weaved electricity in her hands and unleashed the pent up energy, hitting a large tree several yards in front of him. The spy wasn't fast enough to run past the falling tree and watched as it blocked his path.

The two companions took a defensive stance, blocking his only escape routes. The spy pulled drew out an arrow, pointing it between the two, not giving away which one he intends to shoot. There was a deathly stillness in the air with only the dying fire burning out. Serana noticed how calm the man's heartbeat was. Even with how much he ran and facing two warriors, it didn't quicken in pace. She could sense murderous intentions.

“Why were you following us?” the elf demanded, keeping his shield arm tense.

Silence. Only silence.

Serana lowered her arms, pulling back her magic in unexpected fashion. “Is there someone you are doing this for?”

Again, no answer or movement. Even with his bowstring pulled taut, his arms didn't even shake.

“Answer!” Arturius shouted.

The man shot out his arrow towards Arturius as means for distraction more than anything. It was easily deflected. When Arturius lowered his shield to see again, the man moved tremendously fast. Before either of them could react, he had a knife held up to Serana's throat with her arm twisted behind her for extra measure.

“You so much as hurt her...I swear to the gods, I will end you!”

The man pressed the edge of the blade harder, drawing blood, not caring about the threat. Serana flinched but remained calm. Arturius however, was ready to tear the man apart.

“Lower your weapon and shield,” he demanded with a familiar tone of voice.

Arturius paused, unsure of what to do. He twisted Serana's arm, making her cry out in pain. The elf tensed up, his teeth gritted hard. He did as commanded, dropping his shield and sword.

“Stand over there.”

Arturius took a moment, moving only after he pressed the edge of the dagger in a more threatening manner against her throat. There was no way he could get his gear in time if he were to charge at him without risking Serana's life.

“Who are you?” Arturius asked.

“I am not allowed to disclose that information.”

“Wait,” Serana said. “You're...You're that man that wanted to join the Dawnguard.”

“Matters not who I am,” Triunn coldly stated. “Now, if you don't mind; I must get going. I will release her once I have reached a respectable distance. You follow, she dies. Understood?”

Before Arturius could say anything, Serana grabbed the assassin's hand and twisted it sharply. Not expecting the inhuman strength, he dropped the dagger but procured a small scythe, ready to carve into her liver. She quickly crushed the top of his foot with her boot, slamming the back of her head into the bridge of the man's nose. Triunn rolled with it the best he could but was blinded with unwanted tears that welled up in his eyes. Before he could respond further, Arturius' fist smashed hard into his gut, making him fall to his knees.

Arturius tore the hood off and grabbed him by the neatly tied back hair. “Why is the Dawnguard following us?!” When he didn't answer, Arturius drew the Dawnbreaker out, holding the glowing blade against his throat. “Tell me...Now.”

Serana put a gentle hand over the elf's weapon and lowered it. “Try honey instead of vinegar.”

Arturius' furrowed brow raised in puzzlement. “What?”

The vampire's eyes shifted colors, glowing in the darkness. Arturius knew what she meant now. He released the grip he had on his now messy hair and waited patiently.

Her gaze burned deeply, staring into his mind. “Tell me who you are.” Shockingly, Triunn remained stoic, resisting her vampiric charm. “Tell me...Who are you?” She raised the tone of her voice, becoming more serious.

He smiled without fear. “My master's will precedes yours, Serana. Your parlor tricks override the volition of more primitive minds. Mine does not fall under such influence.”

Serana's powers waned, her eyes turning back to normal. “No one's ever been able to resist before...” she gasped, taking a step back.

The elf cracked his knuckles, ready to get his hands dirty. “I know a few things about interrogation. If you want full use of your hands afterward, you better tell us who you are and why you've been following us.”

“Might as well sever my mortal coil. I fear my master more than I ever will you and because of that; my secrets will be taken to the grave.”

Serana listened to the man's heart carefully, sensing no deception. “He's not lying.”

Arturius' eyes shifted from side to side, trying to figure out what to do. “What do you want to do with him?”

“I...I don't know,” Serana said with a shrug. “Why are you asking me?”

“He is the one who threatened your life. Figured I would leave it up to you.”

Serana looked down at the man in the silver clothing that's now stained with blood. “May I ask you something?”

“Yes, you may,” Triunn said slyly, surprising both the Nord and Dunmer with compliance.

“Were you plotting to kill us or were you just gathering information?”

Triunn didn't answer as he stared back. Frustrated, Arturius grabbed him by the collar. “You said you would answer her!”

“Correction: she asked if she may ask me question. She did. Rather I would answer is of a different nature.”

“Grr...” Arturius snarled, dropping the man down on the ground. “Are you going to answer her then?”

“No. That is classified.”

“Fuck it. I am done showing mercy,” an exasperated Arturius said, bringing his sword back to cleave off the man's head.

Serana closed her eyes as she turned her head away. As the hunter swung the blade towards Triunn's neck, he rolled under it and threw powder into the elf's face. Blinded and coughing from the ground spices that burned his delicate nose, Arturius flew in a rage. Serana was caught off guard and watched as the spy did the same to her. Both were doubled over, throwing snow onto their faces to soothe the fervid itching. Arturius howled in anger, waiting for his vision to clear.

“The hell was that?!” he wheezed.

“An escape,” Serana answered, noticing the man's absence once her vision cleared.

He coughed hard, trying to get rid of the residue on his face and from his nose. The elf rolled over onto his back, staring up into the cloudy sky, sighing despairingly. Sparse snowflakes floated down, melting instantly as they touched his face. “Guess that answers the question of him following us then. He could have killed us right then and there.”

Serana finished removing the last of the residue from her face and gave a sigh of relief. “Seems out of the Dawnguard's element to send someone like that to track us.”

“There is no way in hell he was one of them; sneaking around like that. Not to mention he said, 'master'. None of that fits.”

“I think it's my father.”

Arturius growled at the idea of what the monster is capable of. “Possible.”

“So much for our hunting lesson, huh?”

* * *

Nova inspected the entrance of the dwarven ruins, seeing several sets of footprints heading inside. However, none showed any of them exiting. The target was still there. She looked back at the annoying elf, informing her she could go back.

Karliah shook her head in defiance. “I've spent years in hiding because of Mercer! I am not go-”

“You will only get in my way. I do not need help and if I did, it sure as hell would not be from someone I just met!” the assassin snapped. She was irritated over the recent events with Ysolda, wishing she was back home to take care of her. However, duty calls.

“So you plan on going in by yourself? How are you going to poison him? How are you going to get him out?”

“I've already had that figured out,” Nova bluffed, hoping the elf would not call her out on it.

“You have no idea what Mercer is capable of!” Karliah's emotions were clouding her reasoning but only Nova could sense that.

Fed up with her nagging, Nova grabbed the elf and threw her against the archway of the ruin. Before Karliah could do anything, Nova had her treasured knife held against her throat. “You know, I could just kill you now and blame it on Mercer. Explain to the guild that you went in by yourself against my command and got yourself killed.” She let go and sheathed her dagger as she made her way into the dwarven cavern. “Now...Fuck off and let me do my job.”

Karliah was speechless and shaking from fear. The ruthless conviction and sadistic attitude paralyzed her more than the poison Nova carried. All Karliah could do was watch as the professional killer made her way into the depths.

Nova inspected the darkened tunnels and was surprised to see torches that were lit. She quietly made her way down the ramp, sticking close to the wall in case there was anybody near by. A campfire was built and was still smoldering. Around it, several bodies lying in a pool of collected blood. She reached down and felt the forehead of one, feeling faint warmness that was waning. She grabbed hold of a hand and was able to move his fingers freely to test for rigor. It hasn't set in yet.

She wondered if one of these could be Mercer but never did get the details of what he looked liked. With the stories Brynjolf and the gang went on about, it was highly unlikely. Upon closer look, she found a set of bloody footprints heading down deeper. Being careful to avoid making the same mistake, she avoided the bloodbath and followed the path into the depths.

The exuberant, golden décor quickly twisted itself into a dilapidation shrouded in darkness. Only the bio-luminescence from the glowing mushrooms gave any indication of what's nearby. Everything was covered in cobwebs and large cocoons, some even bigger than herself. Nova knew there were chaurus bugs skittering about; vicious insects with mandibles that can chew through steel. However, it's their venom that makes them even more dangerous.

Whenever the Listener was dealing with a contract that wanted an excruciatingly painful death to happen to their target, she found it worked best to use the chaurus venom. Their skin just melts away and eats away at their insides. However, getting it proved dangerous. The price she charged for such a chore paid off in the end for both her and the satisfied customer.

The only thing worse than the large bugs running about were the Falmer that bred them. Blind monsters, more beast than elf. Although they cannot see, their edged ears pick up on any sound and attack recklessly. Nova encountered a few and never again wanted to experience it again. However, wants and needs contrast each other.

Nova snuck into the precarious cavern, keeping her breathing under control. However, a slew of slaughtered Falmer and chaurus made her conflicted. She was relaxed at not having to deal with such dangers but realized, a bigger one existed to have slaughtered them in such a way. She no longer blamed Brynjolf and his company of thieves for not wanting to partake into taking up arms against their traitor leader.

The thing that confused Nova the most was why he killed everything in his path instead of sneaking past them. If Mercer's reputation preceded him, it would not have been a problem whatsoever. Nova banished such thoughts as she crept down into the darkness. The light from the mushrooms were waning as they became more and more scarce. As she squinted into the darkness, Nova cursed not being a vampire anymore. Being a creature of the night would have offered a way for her to navigate through the void with ease. She kept to the wall to avoid disturbing the corpses as well as to avoid leaving a trail of blood to give her away.

The air was thickly humid, getting worse as she went further in. Nova did all she could to mask her heavy breathing to avoid giving away her position from unexpected company. A fork in the path divided the way. Nova went right and when she turned around a corner, her heart almost stopped. A pair of Falmer were lurking about. Seemed Mercer forgot a few or he didn't make his way down here. She crept back out carefully and went the other way. She peeked around the corner to see if her target made his way down here instead. A large, dead bug gave her the answer. Nova stopped when she heard footsteps behind her. She unsheathed her dagger quickly and quietly to attack the Falmer that was behind her. A terrified Karliah was there instead, seconds away from almost dying.

“Do you know how close you were to me killing you?!” Nova said with a harsh whisper, withdrawing her Razor from the elf's neck. “I told you to wait outside for a reason.”

Karliah felt a trickle of blood run down her neck but ignored it. “I saw all those people...Did you..?”

“No. Besides, if I did, would it matter? Now go! I work alone and you will only get in my fucking way!” Nova turned around to continue her mission, furious over Karliah's interruption.

The thief was too headstrong to follow such demands as she kept on Nova's heels. “I know you aren't exac-”

Nova saw a sparkle of light that caught her attention and put a hand over the gabbing elf's mouth. She slunk into the shadows to hide the both of them from whoever was approaching from down the corridor. Nova released her grip on Karliah and shoved her aside to get a better look. A serious looking man carrying a large, crystallized jewel the size of a pumpkin walked nearby. However, he stopped and looked in their general direction.

“I know you're there, Karliah. Never were good at hiding,” he chuckled.

A gasp escaped Karliah and looked to Nova for some type of answer. The assassin rolled her eyes and gave a nod. Reluctantly, the thief came from the shadows and showed her. “Mercer.” Her voice cracked with anger and fear. “You have a lot to pay for.”

“Oh? And you came here, by yourself...to make me pay?” Mercer shook his head and laughed. “That's rich. Not as rich as I am going to be thanks to this beauty though,” he said, patting the large gemstone.

“You killed Gallus, you bastard!”

“And what are you going to do about it? Hmm?” Mercer taunted, making his former partner become more blinded with anger.

Nova shook her head, wishing that the thief would keep her emotions in check. However, there was nothing she could do. She was just glad that Mercer only caught one of them so the element of surprise was still on their side.

Karliah tried to reach for her bow but Mercer was faster. In a flash, he pierced Karliah's chest with his sword. “Too slow to save yourself just like you were with your love,” he said with pride.

Nova was more impressed with his swordsmanship than worried about Karliah. She watched as Mercer pulled the bloody sword out, making Karliah crumple onto the ground. The life drained from her eyes as Mercer walked by, whistling a tune of victory. Nova waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps before emerging from cover.

“Shame,” Nova said coldly. She unhooked the ebony weapon from the fresh corpse, loving the balance and weight of it. “But the bigger shame would be leaving this damn fine bow behind.” Nova took the quiver as well, feeling complete once again. It's been a week since she has held a bow and the sensation was sorely missed. She pulled out one of the black arrows and doused the tip with the poison she bought off the khajiit. Now with distractions out of the way, she could focus on the task at hand.

Nova followed Mercer all the way outside, keeping out of sight. The draft of the cold night air kissed her face as she stalked closer to the entrance. There, her target was prepping the deceased thief's horse as a final insult. He stole her life, her lover, and now her horse. Before he could mount up, Nova pulled back the drawstring with the poisoned arrow ready to strike. She made sure to learn from Karliah's death as to not make the same mistake. The arrow penetrated Mercer's shoulder from behind.

“The hell!?” the master thief bellowed as he tore the projectile from his back with his free hand.

Nova emerged from the shadows with a smile, lowering her weapon. “It's over now.”

“You think a simple wound will stop me?!” he yelled with hubris. Mercer drew out his sword, still clutching the large jewel with a death grip. “I can kill you before you can draw another arrow.”

“Try me,” Nova challenged as she walked towards the man without fear.

Enraged, he charged at the assassin but ended up stumbling over his feet, crashing hard into the snow covered ground. The large jewel rolled towards Nova who then scooped it up. “You poisoned it...Smart.”

“I am not like the elf. I don't take chances.”

Mercer tried to move but his body would not respond. “How long till the poison kills me?”

Nova shook her head at the answer. “It won't. It will just stop you from running away. Although normally, I kill on the spot but this is a delivery to the Thieves Guild. Your death comes later.”

Mercer scoffed. “Too bad you couldn't even save Karliah.”

Nova shrugged as bagged the exuberant jewel stone in the saddle of Shadowmere. “I am not in the business of saving people. Besides, I told her to stay behind. She didn't. The rest is not my fault.”

“You watched her die. Tell me; is the bow you are using more important than her life? Is that why you let me kill her?”

“Shit happens,” Nova replied. She went over to the other horse that Karliah brought and guided him near the paralyzed man. She hoisted Mercer up and slung him over on the horse's back. Even threw a blanket on top of him to make sure he doesn't freeze to death on the way back.

“Ironic...You show more compassion towards me than my former partner. Why is that?”

“Need you alive. Karla wasn't important enough to save.”

If Mercer could have shook his head, he would have. “Don't even remember her name...”

“Time to get going.” Nova said without emotion as she hopped on Shadowmere.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how cold hearted Nova is at times. That is all.


	22. Scrolls and Contracts

A flushed Arturius opened the door to the Nightgate Inn and fell down in one of the chairs. Serana was still feeling restless and energetic from his blood but could understand why the elf needed rest. She approached the counter, looking at the innkeeper with innocent eyes. “We are looking for a priest. We heard he was staying here?”

“Unless ya be wantin' a room, can't help ya,” the gruff and haggard Nord said.

“Tell me,” she insisted, using her charm.

The innkeeper pointed a finger at the closed door in the corner of the inn. “There,” he said blankly.

“Thank you,” Serana said with a flirtatious smile before sauntering over to the tired Dunmer. “Good news: we found him.”

Arturius grunted approvingly. “Good to hear.”

The vampire tapped her foot, waiting for the elf to stand. After waiting a few seconds, she kicked his shin. “You coming?”

He grunted again, this time, not so approvingly. “Let me rest a bit,” Arturius groaned. “I'll be right here.”

Serana leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Shouldn't be long.”

She approached the room and swallowed heavily as she rapped on the door gently. A stirring was heard inside before the wooden door cracked open slightly. “You have any idea how late it is?” the priest grumbled, only showing part of his long bearded face.

“Apologies,” Serana said with a bow. “I heard you were looking for an Elder Scroll?”

The man raised an eyebrow, unsure of his guest. He opened the door regardless. “You have one?”

Serana reached around her back and held out the parchment as an offering to priest. “I do.”

“Oh! Come in, come in!” the bearded man urged, welcoming his guest. “I've been searching all my life for one. Now, it seems it found me instead. How did you manage to come across such a treasure?” he asked with excitement.

“A family gift,” Serana said simply. “But when it comes to reading it, I haven't a clue. I was hoping that maybe you knew something about it?”

“Ah, yes. I've trained most of my life for such an occasion,” he said with an awestruck smile as he held the scroll. “Forgive my manners. My name is Dexion.”

“Serana. Pleasure,” she said with a curtsy.

“So tell me, young one; what do hopes and dreams do you think you will find within?”

“I am hoping to find an ancient and powerful artifact. If it falls into the wrong hands, the world we know will come to an end.”

“Hmm...” Dexion muttered as he inspected the scroll. “And if it's locked away with this being the only key, why go out and find it? Would it not be safer to keep it hidden as well as the scroll?”

“It's not a matter of if but when, rather it's days, years, eons...” Serana implored with urgency, hoping the priest will hear her plight.

Dexion nodded in agreement. “Yes, child. I suppose that is a good enough reason as any.” Unexpectedly though, the returned the scroll over to Serana. “If you don't mind, would it be okay if we waited till tomorrow? Reading such a mystical scroll will require all my focus and attention.”

“Oh, yes! Of course. Thank you so much for doing this!” Serana bowed once again before taking her leave. She approached Arturius and kicked the leg of his chair, jolting him awake.

“The fuck do – I mean, what is?” the elf said groggily as he rubbed his tired eyes.

“We have to wait till morning light before he can read it.”

Arturius nodded tiredly before relaxing again to close his eyes. “Sounds good,” he said through a yawn.

“So...Unless you want to sit on a wooden chair, I suggest we get a room?”

“Right, right,” he said as he reached down to fetch the light sack of coins, tossing it to the vampire. “Starting to run low on funds. Might be our last night at an inn till we secure some more.”

Serana paid the innkeeper and had to drag the tired and worn out elf to the room. He collapsed on the straw filled paillasse, wanting to fall asleep instantly.

“At least take off your armor,” she requested as she began to strip down to her undergarments.

“Ugh...Fine.” He undid the straps and tore off the metal plating that covered his chest. After haphazardly tossing the rest of his gear onto the ground without care, he again fell into the welcoming bed.

“Good night,” Serana said with irritation.

“Good night, beautiful,” he mumbled subconsciously.

Serana curled up on her side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She was too excited and nervous about what the scroll will say and where it will lead them. Before she could think too much into it, she felt a heavy arm cross over her, pulling her close to the elf. She smiled and kissed his hand, waiting for the approaching dawn.

* * *

Ysolda heard a heavy knock on the door as she was getting ready to meet with the caravans. Unsure of who it was, she pulled back on the latch of the peep hole.

“Who is it?” she asked nervously.

“Brynjolf sent for me. Name's Dirge and I'll be your escort,” he said gruffly.

She was confused as to why she would need one. “An escort?”

“Did I stutter?”

“No, but why did Brynjolf send one for me?” she asked through the small hole in the door, still reluctant to open it.

“Because I am getting paid for it. T'was your wife's idea,” Dirge said, getting more irritated over the interrogation.

“Fine,” Ysolda said, opening the magically inclined door. “Give me a few minutes to get ready and we'll be on our way.”

“Whatever.” The bruiser entered the home, impressed with the fancy and expensive decorations. “My, that sweet taste of yours sure gets paid well, eh?”

Ysolda rolled her eyes at the crude mannerisms but didn't say anything about it. She grabbed her shoulder pack and made sure her hair was perfectly groomed before meeting the bodyguard out in the living room. “Ready?”

“Yep,” Dirge said, setting down a jeweled goblet the piqued his interest.

The man went out first as Ysolda followed close by. The morning sun greeted them both, slowly warming up the frosty air. Neither of them spoke much on the way to Riften. Ysolda tried to bring up subtle conversation to break the ice but Dirge's short responses made it rather difficult. She gave up on trying and kept her eyes on the road ahead. When the Khajiit were in view, she gave Dirge a brisk thanks before running towards her fellow traders.

“Ri'saad's heart warms to your return, Ysolda,” the caravan leader said, welcoming back his favorite human.

Ysolda hugged the furry beastman, enlightened to hear such words sooth her heart. “I take it Khayla told you about what happened?” she asked

“Correct. It also has come to my attention that you wish to learn how to better defend yourself, no?”

“I...I don't know the first thing about fighting though,” Ysolda awkwardly confessed.

Ri'saad raised a paw of dismissal. “Bah! Defending yourself is not the same as fighting. Learn to defend so you don't have to fight.”

“I...guess?”

“You need not worry about the trades today. Khayla will instruct you on the Whispering Fang style of fighting, passed on through the generations. She learned from Ma'randru-jo before his passing.”

“Can't believe it's been over a year since he died,” Ysolda said depressingly.

“Warm sands greet him now. May the villain who slew him be struck down as the cur they are!” Ri'sadd spat with hatred.

“Have any idea who would do such a thing?”

“We are not exactly the most liked. Could have been anyone,” the cat sighed. “But let's not dwell on such sad times. Go see Khayla. She will instruct you on our ways.”

Ysolda walked by the tents towards the campfire where her instructor was stirring up some broth. The khajiit took a sip and added some more spices to it. “Should you not be at home, resting?”

“I'm feeling much better, thank you,” she answered, sitting down near the fire and enjoying the smell of the bubbling concoction. “I actually need some help. Ri'saad said you would be able to do so.”

Khayla poured some of the morning broth into a bowl for herself. “How may I assist you?”

“I need to learn how to defend myself. Can you train me to fight?”

Khayla took a long sip and stared hard at Ysolda. “Our fighting style has never been taught to furless ones before.”

“Oh...Okay,” Ysolda said dejectedly. “I'm sor-”

The khajiit held up a paw to hush her up. “I never said I would not be willing. However, you must be dedicated. This isn't just training of your body but of your mind as well. You give it your all, understood?”

Ysolda nodded with a mixture of fear and excitement. “I will, Khayla.”

“Show me what you are made of then,” the khajiit challenged as she took a fighting stance.

“You want me to attack you?”

“I want you to try.”

Ysolda took a deep breath and timidly swung at the more experienced fighter. Khayla easily moved with the punch, causing Ysolda to fall forward. The Nord dusted herself off and charged again. Before she could respond, Ysolda was flat on her back, the air knocked out of her lungs.

“Do you know why you keep falling down?”

“You're...too fast,” Ysolda coughed out between gasps.

“You throw yourself off balance with each attack. Find proper footing or you will find proper burial.”

The determined Nord gritted her teeth, forcing herself up again. This time, Khayla went on the offensive, catching Ysolda off guard. The cat placed her foot between Ysolda's ankles, sweeping the legs. The Nord's face felt dirt once again.

“Gods! Warn me a little next time!” she griped, pounding the soil with her fist.

“Did the vampire warn you before he kidnapped you?” Khayla asked. She helped her student up, cleaning the dust off. “I just needed a taste of what you know and how you react. We'll start with the first lessons now.”

* * *

When the first rays of daylight broke through into the room, Serana has never been so eager for sunlight. Arturius' snoring prevented Serana from getting any sleep. She was too excited regardless, even without the guttural stertor. The vampire jumped out of the bed and threw on some fresh clothes. Arturius didn't even stir from the noise and was still catching up on rest. Not wanting to wait for him, she snuck out of the room and gently knocked on the priest's door. She waited for a few moments and heard nothing so she knocked a little louder.

“Hold on, child!” Dexion yelled as he got out of bed. He peeked out of the door to see the nervous woman before him. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“At least it's morning though,” she said, giddy as a child on receiving a gift.

“I suppose so,” the priest grumbled. “I am feeling a bit famished though. Let me at least get some food before we unlock the secrets the scroll has to offer?”

Serana frowned but nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

Dexion sat down at a vacant table and ordered a vegetable soup. Serana was more interested in meat and got a large cut of horker to satisfy her cravings. The priest gave a silent prayer before tasting the stew.

“How long have you been a moth priest?” Serana questioned between bites.

“So long ago. I spent the days of my youth in the White-Gold Tower in Cyrodill, learning about the world through books. With my thirst for knowledge having no limits, I was introduced to one of the elder moth priests and began learning all about the Elder Scrolls. Spent decades preparing and meditating just for this moment.”

“So you never read one before? How do you prepare for such a thing then?”

Dexion took another spoonful of his soup before answering. “It would be hard to explain the years it took preparing and compress it into a conversation, I'm afraid.”

“I suppose it would be,” Serana said in agreement. “Glad there is someone though who has taken the time to learn how to do such a thing.”

Serana ate her food hastily. Although she wasn't as uncouth when Arturius ate normally, she still felt embarrassed afterward. Dexion understood her excitement without saying anything and finished his meal quietly.

“Care to sate my curiosity as to how you came across such a wondrous artifact?” the priest asked, folding his hands on the rough, wooden table.

“It's about a story as long as yours is,” Serana said, dodging the question without lying.

“I suppose I have kept you waiting long enough, haven't I? Let us see what answers have been kept over the eons.” Dexion excused himself from the dining table and escorted the woman back into his room,

Serana was tempted to go wake up Arturius but decided he could use the rest. Her hands shook with nervousness as she handed the scroll to the aged priest. He slowly unraveled the parchment, inspecting the strange runic inscriptions. The color in his eyes faded, turning a milky white. His voice became hauntingly shallow. “I see a vision before me, an image of a great bow. A voice whispering, saying 'Among the night's children, a dread lord will rise. In an age of strife, when dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light and the night and day will be as one.' The voice fades and the words begin to shimmer and distort.”

Dexion started to stagger a little bit, losing his focus and temperament but still, he pressed on.

“But there is more here. The secret of the bow's power is written elsewhere. I think there is more to the prophecy, recorded in another scroll. Yes, I see it now...It speaks of the potency of ancient blood.”

The last of the priest's strength gave out, collapsing to the floor. Serana caught him before he could and carried him to the bed. “Are you okay?”

“I don't think I was as well prepared as I thought,” he said as his voice returned to normal. However, his eyes remained absent color and pupils.

Serana took notice and sighed heavily. “You're blind.”

“Such is the price to pay,” he said casually. “But at least I was not robbed of my sanity.”

“But I already knew of all this though! This was all for nothing!”

“I apologize for not being of more assistance,” Dexion whispered with shame.

“It's not your fault,” Serana said with a shaking head. She realized how callused she was being and tried to be more sympathetic. “Do you have anyone to help you out? Someone you can reach out to?”

Dexion smiled softly and nodded. “I am not alone in this onus, child. I will be fine.”

Serana reached over and held the old man's hand in comfort. “Thank you.”

“May the Divines be on your side in your quest, Serana.”

“You too.” Serana stood up and headed towards the door. She took one last look at the blind struck man before leaving to wake up Arturius. He was still out cold, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. She sat down on his side of the bed and gently shook him. Arturius rose up, his hand instantly clasped around the vampire's throat. When he saw who it was, he quickly let go, coming back to his senses. Serana fell off the side of the bed and onto the floor.

“Shit!” he cursed loudly, seeing the terror in her eyes. “I'm sorry! I didn't know...”

Tears started to well up and she quickly got up to rush out of the room. She heard Arturius telling her to wait but she was outside. The cold frosty air did its best to soothe her but the sun along with its reflection off the ice and snow added further irritation. She sat down under a tree that offered shade and curled up under its branches. After hearing the early morning birds chirp their songs along with the branches crackling slightly with the wind, Serana was able to calm down. When the door to the inn opened up, she saw a panicked Arturius rushing towards her.

“Gods, Serana...I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that to you. I should have warned you beforehand. You know the old proverb of never wake a sleeping dog?”

“It's fine,” she replied curtly, not wanting to discuss it anymore. “I'll just let you sleep in next time. The world can wait a bit.”

Arturius rolled his eyes at the passive-aggressive behavior. “Did the priest person give you any information?”

“Unfortunately, everything he said, we already knew of. This scroll only tells of the Auriel's Bow. The location is in another one.”

Arturius crossed his arms, confused over what Serana said. “So wait...How did you already know before hand if it was in the scroll?”

“That was what my mother told me before she decided to hide me away from my father. I guess she knew what was in it and didn't want him to find out.”

“Where is your mom then? She might have some answers.”

“Good news or bad news? Take your pick.”

“Let me guess: Your mother has the answers but you have no idea where she is or she passed away?”

Serana nodded with despair. “After my father discovered the prophecy about the sun, he changed. He became so obsessed and insane that my mother looked into further into it. That was when she found the secrets that my father was looking for but never shared with anyone except me.”

“And after all this time, you think she is still... _alive?_

Serana leaned up against the trunk of the tree. Her hands clenched the soft powder snow as she looked up at the towering elf. “I don't know. Either way, I have no idea where to look.”

Arturius paced back and forth, racking his brain to help come up with something to help point in the right direction. “What was the last thing you remember her saying to you?”

“That she was going somewhere safe; a place my father would never find her.”

“So she was buried like you were?” the Dunmer suggested blindly.

“I don't think so. She was claustrophobic and I doubt she would want to be asleep all this time. She would want to make sure she could respond if something did happen.”

“What about right under his nose?”

Serana raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Like...still in the castle? That...makes sense.” Serana stood up and hugged Arturius tight, causing the crack in the armor to open up even more. “My mother had a laboratory. She was the best alchemist with a beautiful garden in the courtyard that I used to play in as a child. There might be something there now to give us a clue!”

“So...You want just the two of us to go into a castle full of vampires, the likes of which are just as powerful or more so than you?” Arturius coughed nervously at the idea of that. “How?”

“You needn't worry. The entrance to the courtyard is on the side of the castle. My father never did like my mother's agricultural habits so he had it sealed off from the rest of the foyer. That will be our advantage.”

Arturius was still unsure but agreed to it anyway. “You lead then. However, if it's too risky, then we will have to find another way.”

“There is no other way though. No matter the risk though, we can't sit by and do nothing.”

“No offense but if this happened thousands of years ago, don't you think he would have found out where this bow was and everything?”

“If my mother had not have intervened, yes. She isn't as strong as my father but she is smarter. It's because of her that he hasn't been able to succeed and we are not going to let him either.”

“Okay, okay,” Arturius said apologetically. “I would suggest though that we go during the day. Less active vampires help our chances.”

“If it's okay with you, I would like some more rest be-”

“Oh thank the Gods,” Arturius interrupted. “I didn't want to say anything but I am still recovering after...you know.”

“Sorry,” Serana said, hanging her head low.

The Dunmer brought his hand under the shame ridden vampire's chin, making her look into his eyes. He kissed Serana passionately, holding her close. “Feel better now?”

“Always seem to have that effect on me,” Serana smirked, washing away any guilt on her face. She took Arturius by the hand and walked towards the inn. “This time...We are sleeping.”

Arturius playfully snarled. “You sure about that?”

* * *

The morning sun crested over the mountains, shining on the town of Riften. Nova approached the gates on her black horse with Mercer strung over behind her, still paralyzed by the poison. She took extra precautions and put special cuffs that covered his hands instead of just linking his wrists. The assassin hopped off the horse and glared at the gate keeper.

“Tell Brynjolf that he has a package waiting for him.”

The guard didn't say anything but gave a nod. He opened the gate and went inside, making the assassin wait. Nova pulled out the last carrot from the saddlebag and fed it to the hungry demonic horse. Shadowmere snorted with gratification as he devoured his favored treat. Mercer wasn't as happy.

“I hope you die a miserable death, you cunt.” Mercer then spat on Nova's boots because he couldn't lift his head enough to aim for her face.

The white haired assassin smiled at her prey, stroking his cheek gently. “You're lucky I am getting paid to keep you alive because trust me – you do not want me to deliver your death.”

“I can pay you triple what they are offering if you let me go,” Mercer bribed as a last resort.

“This isn't about money; this is about principle. The Dark Brotherhood follows through with their contracts.”

“Then follow through with the one I offered you then!”

Nova pondered the thought making Mercer's eyes light up with hope which was what she was looking for. When the assassins leaned down, she whispered into his ear softly. “No one's ever been able to buy me out of a contract. Not you, not now, not ever.”

Mercer's face twisted with anger as he started shouting every obscenity known to him. Nova grabbed took a rag and stuffed it deep into his mouth to quiet him. After waiting for a few moments, the guard and Brynjolf showed up.

“By the Eight...You did it!” he said with relief and happiness.

“You're going to need to carry him unless you want me to just leave him on the ground,” Nova said casually.

“Of course, lass.” Brynjolf went over to the horse and stared at his former leader with seething hatred. He grabbed Mercer by his hair and yanked his head up. “You are going to pay for your crimes.”

“Remember. You don't get to kill him. I do. Okay? Okay.” Before Brynjolf could answer, she threw Mercer off the back of her horse and hopped on.

“Thank you, Nova,” he said with praise.

“Don't get all mushy on me. I didn't do it as a favor. It was business. You have three days to come up with the money...or else.” Nova wanted to leave it to his imagination as to what would happen if he didn't. She turned her back to the men and rode off down the road, leaving them to their own affairs. The chilly morning air blew through her ghost white hair that was already messy from riding all morning. A shower and slumber were what she was focused on more than anything.

When she rode past the caravans, she wanted to check up on Ysolda but decided to not disturb their work. The home in the woods welcomed its owner back. Nova hopped off her steed and left him on his own. Too tired to even care about putting him in the stable, she walked inside and collapsed on the soft, down feather bed.

After smelling her own body odor though, she lazily dragged herself to the simple wash bin. There wasn't a hot springs like there was in the Sanctuary. Instead, it was just a bucket of water and a rag for the most basic exfoliation. With the added soap, it was doable. When Nova finished her five minute cleanse, she dropped into the luxurious bed once again, not even bothering to dry herself off.

 


	23. Dark Justice

A heavy knock on the door awakened Nova. She grabbed her Razor and carefully stalked the entrance, not a sound to give away. When she opened the peep hole, Ysolda's bodyguard stood there. Fearing the worst, Nova ripped the door open, not caring she was naked.

“Did something happen to Ysolda?!” she demanded, pointing the tip of the dagger at Dirge.

He took a step back, holding her hands up in the air. “Gods, woman! I'm fucking here on Brynjolf's request. Your wife is fine!”

“She better be,” Nova growled, lowering her weapon. She tapped her foot, waiting for the bodyguard to continue. “Well?”

“Umm...You going to get dressed or you going to let your tits dance about?”

“Useless men. See a woman naked and suddenly, they can't think straight. Tell me what the hell Brynjolf wants or fuck off. Okay?”

Dirge did his best to give eye contact but it was a losing contest. “We need your help with a little something.”

“For fucks sake; can your guild do anything without me holding your goddamn hands? The hell does he want now?”

“Interrogation,” he coldly said. “We need to know where the cache is.”

“And you can't do it yourself? Just break a few fingers. That'll loosen his lips. Now, piss off so I can go back to sleep.”

“It's not that. We were going to but Brynjolf decided to make full use of the amount you requested. He said you wouldn't charge for anything extra for any favors in the matter.”

“Of course he would use that as an excuse,” Nova replied with a sigh, fuming with irritation. “Fine; I'll do it. Give me ten minutes. I need to get dressed and grab my tools.”

After the Listener got ready, she grabbed her favored instruments which consisted of needles, a vial, and of course, the knife that never left her side. She went outside and to her surprise, Dirge was still sitting on the porch.

“So instead of leaving to tell Brynjolf, you stayed? No wonder you guys are falling apart.”

“Are you always this much of a bitch or am I just special?”

Nova walked closer to the stout and cocky man, giving him an alluring smile. When she noticed Dirge lowering his guard, she quickly sucker punched him in the stomach, knocking all the air from his lungs. When he hunched over, she grabbed him by the hair and pressed her knife against his throat.

“Remember who you are talking to. I am the leader of the Dark Brotherhood and killing you would be as simple as breathing. Do you understand?”

The look of fear pleased Nova and let go of Dirge. Rather it was from unable to breathe or was too scared, he didn't respond verbally. A simple nod was all he gave.

“Good,” Nova said as she walked by him to Shadowmere who was happily drinking from the pond.

Shadowmere galloped hard as he raced the wind. Ysolda was walking towards them and Nova had the stallion slow down to a stop. Before Nova could greet her wife, she saw the bruises and small cuts on her face. She immediately hopped off, wet with anger.

“What happened!?”

Ysolda smiled and hugged her wife close. “I was training with the khajiit like you recommended.”

“Oh.” Nova relaxed as she embraced her wife. “Well..That's good to hear. You be careful though and be sure to listen to what they have to say. Okay?”

“Yeah, I'll be fine. Dirge even walked by to escort me home but I told him I should be fine since I saw you riding back earlier this morning.”

“Yeah. I was thinking of checking up on you but I was too tired and sore. I just wanted to get some sleep.”

“You look like you haven't gotten enough though,” Ysolda said, noticing the light circles under her wife's eyes.

Nova shrugged, making light of the situation. “Could have gotten more but duty calls.”

“Oh...Right. I should probably leave you to it.” Ysolda gave Nova a soft kiss, stroking her silver-white hair. “I love you.”

“As I do you with every beat of my heart,” she replied back with a smile. “I don't feel comfortable though having you walk back by yourself though.”

“Oh shush. I'll be fine.” Ysolda pointed behind her wife, causing her to turn her head to see. “Besides, Dirge is there. Nothing will happen, dear.”

“Better not. I'll see you later tonight, my love.” Nova gave her wife another kiss goodbye before hopping on the midnight black horse again.

The sun was settling down, burning the sky with orange and red flames as it started to balance itself on the mountain peak. Nova once again approached what looked to be the same guard. Since they all wore full faced helmets, it was hard to tell. She didn't say anything as she walked by and said nothing to her as well.

When the assassin got down to the Ratway, she forced open the door to the Ragged Flagon as if she own the place. She found the man she was looking for and pulled up a chair. “Seriously, Brynjolf...You could have made this request when I was here.”

“Is the offer still good?”

Nova rolled her eyes at the question. “Of course.”

“It's still a mutual benefit for the both of us though, lass.”

“The hell are you talking about? Wasting my time is not something I think is a benefit.”

Brynjolf took a long draw from his mug. “I don't think anyone here could handle doing something that...twisted.”

“Not even Dirge?”

“Thought we had a deal earlier,” Brynjolf reminded again.

“Yeah, we did,” Nova agreed. “The only question that comes to mind is...What would you ever do without me?”

“Probably not have to worry about pissing you off and always feel as if I have to look over my shoulder or sleep with one eye open,” he said jokingly.

“Down to business...Where is he?”

The thief pointed a finger in the same location that Arturius was when he was bound up. However, not as many chains were needed. The custom shackles Nova had were still on him. The assassin dragged a chair over and sat down in front of the disgraced former leader. She saw he had a swollen eye from where Dirge lashed out along with a bloody lip. It was child's play compared to what she had planned.

“You are going to die, Mercer. That much is given. How much pain you have to go through is completely up to you.”

“I'm not scared of you,” he said with defiance and strong will.

“Oh, you will be...You will be.” She stood up from her chair and checked the bindings that shackled him to the wall. She then pulled out a roll that contained her instruments of torture. She inspected the long, thin metal spikes and dipped them in the vial filled with black liquid.

“I've learned a lot in the Dark Brotherhood. Did you know there are pressure points in the body that if stimulated, can cause intense pain? Also, it's perfectly safe and won't kill you either. However, you are going to wish it will. Now, I am going to ask you...Where is the treasure you stole?”

Mercer ignored her, staring at the wall away from the assassin. Taking that for an answer, Nova shoved the needle carefully behind his elbow. The shackles prevented him from resisting and all he could do was grit his teeth. When Nova found the sweet spot, she gave a twisted smile before pushing it in the rest of the way. The sound that Mercer let out was inhuman. Everyone was caught off guard, hearing the howling of a man who never showed weakness.

“And that was just one. Care to go for another?” Nova teased with sickened pleasure.

“Go to hell.” Mercer launched a glob of spit in the woman's face.

She simply wiped it off and pulled out another needle. Nova cut away the fabric above Mercer's knee and felt around. Another needle was dipped into the toxic chemical and slowly pushed the pin under the kneecap. Mercer tried again in vain to move but was too tightly bound. Pain once again racked his body. Another scream of pain rattled the underground tavern. No matter how hard Mercer pulled and pushed, the chains offered no resistance.

“Fucking cunt! I hope you and your wife get raped to death!”

“Now...That's not a nice thing to say.” The calmness that she reverberated took everyone off guard more than Mercer's screaming. She took hold of the needle in his elbow and gave it a gentle flick. He clenched down so hard, one of his teeth chipped off.

“I'll...never...talk,” Mercer vowed, despite snot running down his face.

“Oh, you're so cute when you act tough. Too bad you are not impressing anyone. Just tell me where the treasure you stole is and it will be over. You're going to die either way so you might as well give it up.”

“Go...fuck...yourself.”

“The record is four needles. You're halfway there.” She drew out a needle that was twice as long as the other two before tearing off the shirt of her human pin cushion. Nova placed it on his collarbone, angling it towards the joint in the shoulder. Instead of crying out, all that could escape was a simple gasp. When she didn't get the expected response, she pushed deeper and twisted the torture device around. Mercer convulsed in agony, slamming the back of his head against the stone wall.

“Tell me, Mercer. Tell me where it's at,” she coaxed gently.

“S-s-stop...Please,” he blubbered.

“What was that? That didn't sound like the location of the cache. Maybe this will jog your memory.” She flicked the metal pin on his knee, shaking against the nerves. Mercer jerked his leg so hard, he ended up fracturing his ankle.

“I'll...tell you,” Mercer said weakly with a voice more broken than his foot. “Just stop...please.”

“And it only took three needles. Impressive. Now, tell us.”

“There are some ruins...north of here...I stashed it there,” Mercer gasped quietly.

“Was that so hard? You could have saved yourself a lot of pain. I will say this though; if you are lying, you are going to break the record. Understand?”

“Yes,” the groveling thief whimpered, not a shred of pride showing.

“Good then.” Nova got up to talk to Brynjolf, leaving the pins inside her victim.

“He say anything?”

“Know of any ruins to the north?”

Brynjolf nodded. “Yeah. It's not too far away from here. That's where it is?”

“Possibly. He could be lying but I hope he isn't that stupid. Well...That's not true. I hope he is so I can have more fun.”

Brynjolf stared at her, taken back by what she just said. “You are one seriously screwed up lass.”

Nova let out a chilling giggle. “That's what you hired me for, right?”

“Anyway...” The thief was wanting to change the subject. “I've been meaning to ask you. Where is Karliah?”

Nova gave an uncaring response. “I told her to stay put but she didn't listen. Mercer ended up killing her.”

Brynjolf's jaw tightened on hearing the news. He wasn't sure what upset him more: her death or how casual Nova told him like they were talking about weather. “I'm sure you did all you could to protect her.”

“I told her to stay out of my way and to let me handle it. She didn't and got herself killed because of her emotions. She was too focused on revenge and wanting to see his fall right before her eyes. It was because of that, he was able to kill her.”

“First Gallus and now Karliah.” Brynjolf went back to the bar and ordered himself a drink of the heaviest alcohol. “Guess we go send a party to see if Mercer really stashed it there.”

“You have fun with that,” Nova said as she sat down to enjoy herself a drink of sweet mead. “I've done enough traveling for the day. You let me know how the treasure hunt turns out. I'll be waiting here.”

Brynjolf left with a pair of thieves and set out to see if Mercer kept true to his word. While Nova was enjoying her drink, a woman who had soft white hair similar to the assassin sat down across from her.

“So it seems your eyesight has returned,” the woman said.

“And you are?” Nova asked.

“Vex. Impressive work with Mercer,” the thief complimented. “You're probably the only one who could get the drop on that smug bastard.”

Nova sighed with annoyance. “Do you need something?”

“Never mind then,” the offended Vex said before she got up.

“All I asked was if you needed something. If you wanted to chat, that's fine. I just want to know your intentions.”

Vex looked over her shoulder and scoffed. “I just don't get what your problem is with us. You help us out and then degrade us at the same time. I honestly don't know why Brynjolf deals with you.”

“To answer your first part, I really don't care what happens to any of you. This is business. That's all. As for why Brynjolf deals with me...Probably because he knows I get the job done,” Nova said with pride well earned.

“If you're so great, how come the rest of you were almost wiped from existence?” Vex saw Nova's face turn to stone, brooding with simmering angst. When the assassin stood up, the thief knew she crossed a line.

“You best sleep with one eye open, missy. No one talks that way about my family's passing and gets away with it,” Nova growled.

Vex's lip quivered slightly but said nothing else before taking her leave. Nova's fists were gripped tight when the memories came rushing back to her. Again, she could smell the fire scorching the people she trusted, hearing screams of agony. The wounds were still too fresh in her mind.

Not wanting to rehash it over and over, Nova called Vekel over for a drink to which he gladly obliged. “You okay?” the bartender asked, refilling her mug with honeyed mead.

She grabbed the mug even though he wasn't finished pouring, causing some to spill on the table. When she didn't answer, he decided it was best not to pry and left her alone. Nova sat in silence the rest of the time by herself. She didn't realize how much time has passed until Brynjolf appeared, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

“Nova? You daydreaming or something?”

The assassin snapped out of her trance and collected herself. “What is it?”

“We found the cache. However, it's going to be a few days before we can collect it all and get an estimate of the total.”

“Okay,” she said bleakly, making Brynjolf worried.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, fine. However, I still need to finish the contract. You had me agree to your terms now it's time to agree upon mine.

“You don't have to. I think we can mana-”

“You made a deal with the Night Mother and she sent me here to kill Mercer. That's exactly what is going to happen.” The life in Nova's voice returned as she made her demand. “Mercer's soul is now mine and if someone else decides to take it, their life will be forfeit. Is that clear?”

Brynjolf paused for a moment before nodding. “Crystal.”

“Good,” Nova stated as she rose from her chair.

She sauntered over to Mercer who kept his head bowed, not daring to look up. Everyone gathered around to witness the execution. When Nova withdraw her knife from its sheathe, it sent shivers down everyone's spine. The former leader of the Thieves Guild gulped heavily, doing his best to accept the fate before him. It was over in a blink of an eye with a quick slash across the throat. Blood gurgled out from the opening, bubbling profusely. Some of the thieves were glad. Others were disappointed because they weren't the ones who did it.

“You have three days,” Nova said to Brynjolf as she cleaned off her blade and walked out the door to return home.

* * *

Ysolda was preparing dinner. She made salad exclusively for herself and a roast for her wife which basked over the fire pit. She hummed happily despite being sore from her first day of training. The cut of pork still wasn't finished when Nova walked in through the door.

“Evening, dear,” Ysolda welcomed as she kissed her lover.

“Something smells good,” Nova complimented as she returned the affections.

“It's one of your favorites. It will be ready in about an hour,” Ysolda promised as she returned to the kitchen to cut up more vegetables.

Nova went to her study to relax after the stressful day. The comment about her family made her brood. A plan formulated in her head that made a twisted smile form on her face. She walked over to the walk-in vault that she protected her most treasured valuables and tools. Items such as Astrid's dagger, vials upon vials of useful poisons, and assorted alchemy ingredients were just some of the things Nova stashed away. She pilfered through the variety of colored ampuls until she found what she was looking for.

When Nova closed the safe, she saw Ysolda standing near the door. “You planning something?”

“Tonight. I have to take care of a little something. Nothing serious,” she said calmly.

“You taking care of something usually means someone is about to die.” Ysolda learned up against the frame of the door and folded her arms across her chest. “I take that as serious.”

“You would be correct any other time. However, lessons can't be learned if that person is dead.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Nova sighed as she kept her composure. “This woman said something about what happened with the Dark Brotherhood after most of us died. A verbal threat didn't seem fitting so I am going to let her know that she is never truly safe.”

“That seems...extreme,” Ysolda said in a worried manner.

“I do not back down when someone slanders my family. She needs to learn what respect is.”

Ysolda shivered slightly at the anger her wife was exuberating. “Okay then,” she conferred bleakly as she left the room. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

Nova stared blankly at the response she wasn't expecting. Normally, Ysolda would offer more resistance or some insight. The assassin brushed it off on what happened days before with the vampire. After laying out her midnight black outfit on the bed, she made sure everything was ready. Before she could get lost in thoughts with the plan, Ysolda shouted that dinner was ready.

The food was as tasty as ever. The comforting warmth of the hearth provided a nice ambiance as the two enjoyed their meal. Afterward, Nova cleared the table and threw the remains outside for the compost. Nova got ready as quick as possible and made sure everything was set.

“You look like you're ready to kill someone,” Ysolda remarked with suspicious thought.

“Simple infiltration, dear. I am not planning on anyone dying.”

“It's not so much other people I am worried about. Just you.”

“Good thing I am the best there is,” Nova boasted. “Still, your concern is welcome. I'll be back in a few hours at most. Are you going to be awake when I come back?”

“I have to get up early tomorrow so I might not be. Just be quiet in case I am,” Ysolda requested.

“That's the only way I know how to be,” the assassin smirked.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had to look up torture methods. Research is so much fun when you actually want to learn something of interest.


	24. Moonborn

Nova hopped off Shadowmere a quarter mile away as to not draw attention. The walk helped get her blood flowing and prepared for the personal task ahead. She avoided the front gate and guards on patrol by sneaking through the outlying forest. The walls that circled Riften were twice as tall as any giant. However, this didn't offer any hindrance as Nova pulled out her grappling hook. It was bound by leather to muffle the sound completely as it connected with the interior wall. She quickly scaled over and inspected the guards' movements before leaping down. The shadows offered their service as she dodged between them, avoiding being caught in the line of sight.

Nova avoided the secret entrance only known to the guild and herself as the crypt was creaked loud enough to be heard by anyone from inside the tavern. She shrunk down the old stairs that led down the to the underground slums. A creak betrayed her perfect silence, making Nova curse at herself regardless of no one being around.

Nova remembered that the slums were occupied by vagabonds and lunatics alike. They were outcasts from both the citizens and thieves in this town. Avoiding them was easy as they were untrained to take notice of anything unless it walked right in front of them.

When Nova reached the bridge, it was raised up. She was worried about causing too much noise by using her hook to latch onto the lever to drop it. Instead, she used it to swing herself over. She took a deep breath as she approached the door. The door hinges were rusty and Nova knew they would squeak when she opened it. She pushed on the door, opening it at a slug's pace. When there was a big enough gap, Nova slid a small pocket sized mirror into the crevice to see if there was anyone there. After waiting for several minutes with her ears tuned for any signs of movement inside, the assassin took that as an all clear.

It took her almost half an hour to open the door far enough for her to slip though. The overly cautious infiltrator snuck along the walls, hugging them tightly, avoiding every source of light. Nobody but the very best would be able to spot the intruder. Although she was sure not one of the group of thieves would catch her, Nova never let her guard down. Hubris and other emotions caused distraction and loss of focus. When she drew closer to the bar area, there were clatter of drinks and voices cheering about. Disappointment surfaced on Nova's face. She was hoping most of them were asleep. The mirror she had was used to see around the corner. Almost the whole gang was there. The only one missing was the target.

Nova knew the beds and cots were located further away. There would be no way to reach them right now. Waiting was the only option which she had little issue with considering she was once stayed hidden inside the house of a person she was waiting to kill. A few more hours wouldn't hurt.

Brynjolf and the others joked about, telling stories about the wonder years when Gallus lead them and their sympathies for thinking Karliah was the one who murdered him. Nova finally heard the whole story she was never interested in. Still, she felt no remorse for letting the elf die. She knew she could have prevented it but didn't know how well Mercer fought. She justified it in her mind and didn't mind the outcome. Mercer was captured as per request and she carried out the sentence.

When the last of them turned to their respected beds, Nova snuck through the area carefully. Like a serpent stalking its prey, she finally found who she was looking for. She pulled out the vial and put a few drops under Vex's nose to knock her out. After carefully screening Vex with a dark cloak, she was the same shade of darkness as Nova. Now, the hard part was up ahead. It was difficult to move a limp body and even more so quietly.

When Mallory stirred in his bed across the room, Nova froze. He was just rolling over in a more comfortable position before going back to snoring. Nova crept past everyone again with her prize intact. The door was propped open as to avoid wasting time opening it again. They reached the catacombs and Nova set down her target and tied her up and gagged her mouth for good measure. Nova remembered the stories about this woman being an infiltrator specialist for jobs that needed the best. The assassin would put that title to shame if she wanted to but killing paid more than stealing.

When all was set, Nova took a different vial and placed a drop of the foul smelling on her finger and waved it under Vex's nose. Her pale grey eyes fluttered open, trying to cough but proved difficult with the rag in her mouth. She tried to shout, probably cursing.

Nova pulled her face mask off and squatted down over the woman. “Remember when I said to sleep with one eye open? I wasn't joking. I told you that you were never safe when I am around.”

Vex's eyes started to water slightly with both anger and fear. She struggled to loosen the ropes but they intertwined her fingers as well as her wrists, restricting all movement. Her garbled voice was muffled as she tried to speak.

“Sorry but you're going to listen. I am just here to give you a warning about ever disrespecting my family ever again. You asked me why I seem to degrade you or not like you. The simple fact is – thieves are a joke. Just pranksters in my eyes. So you can break into a house and take something? I just now broke into a guild filled with so-called professional thieves and took a body from under their noses. How is what you do impressive?”

Vex struggled with the bindings, something she never had difficulty before till now. Metal cuffs proved no challenge but the simple rope ceased any effort put forth.

“So I am here to give you a few warnings. You ever speak ill of the Dark Brotherhood again, you will never be found again. Second, if you raise voice about what happened, same thing. I already proved I can steal you from your own home without notice and I can do it again. Is that clear?”

Vex's breathing quickened through her nose as she nodded.

“Good,” Nova said as she ripped the gag from the woman's mouth. “Don't try anything stupid. I don't want to have to kill someone without getting paid for it.” Vex obeyed as she felt the bindings unravel with ease without having to be cut. Nova stood up and blew the terrified thief a kiss. “Glad we could have this conversation,” the assassin said in a kind tone before disappearing down into the shadows.

Vex sat in disbelief, mortified over what just happened. What scared her the most was how easy Nova made it seem. She was truly in a league of her own. A tinge of jealousy was present in the fear Vex felt as she nervously returned to her bed. She knew sleep was out of the question tonight and probably the next few nights as well.

When Nova returned home, Ysolda was already in bed, resting comfortably. Although saddened she wasn't able to say goodnight, it was a productive and thrilling night. She went back to the study and stripped down out of her work clothes, too tired to put them in proper place. She was able to get into the bed without her wife noticing and gave her a gentle kiss goodnight.

“Sleep well, my love.”

* * *

The traveling to the castle full of vampires proved tedious and slow as Serana and Arturius trudged through the deep snow. The bitter wind cut deep into the elf's skin, making him convulse. Serana wasn't bothered except for the hunger. However, trying to move at night proved deadly for him. A sudden gust of wind made made the elf drop down to his knees as he pushed the limits. Luck proved favorable when there was a cave nearby. As Serana helped carry the heavy steel clad Dunmer to the enclosure from the storm, she thanked the divines that it was empty.

“Arturius!” she shouted as he collapsed on the ground. “Come on! You can't fall asleep!”

“It's t-t-too cold. You d-d-don't need me to f-fin-finish this.”

“Oh no...You are not doing some death speech on me. Use your fire magic!” she told him, raising his arm up in a futile effort to get him to try something. Not even an ember glowed as his arm went limp. “You're a werewolf! I've seen regular wolves survive worse weather!”

Serana didn't know what to do. She had no body heat to share and didn't know any fire magic. However, her lightning could start one. The vampire hastily ran outside and snapped off a tree branch. After shaking off all the snow, she focused her magic and shot a bolt of lightning at it. She scowled at the branch not igniting and tried again. The tree limb finally lit up but flashed quickly into ashes, disintegrating instantly. On the verge of tears, she unleashed a storm of lightning into the sky, cursing at the heavens.

Serana fell down to her knees, hitting her shadow that was cast by the full moons. She stopped and turned around to stare at the soothing celestial light and had an idea. Serana quickly rushed towards the cave and started to take off Arturius' armor. She knew he was fading fast and had to work just as much. The elf was completely belligerent and delirious.

“Look, Arturius!” she urged. His eyes were shut as the hypothermia was taking over. Serana grabbed his head and shook it, causing his eyes to flutter open slightly. “Look at the moons!”

Arturius gazed dully at the sky, seeing the moons hover above. He didn't say anything as he stopped shivering. She thought of it as a good sign but his heart was so faint, it could barely be heard.

“Arturius?” she whispered in a saturnine tone.

His eyes were open but there was no response. The vampire's tears dropped down from her cheeks and onto his face. Before she could break into a full sob, Arturius started to convulse violently and let out a beastly howl. Serana stood back and watched with fear and relief of her last resort working.

Arturius arched his back, yelling ferociously. The fingers became claws and his bones started snapping and contorting into a twisted figure. After a few moments of pure agony, the wolf that Arturius always mentioned came out in full. He reared up on his hind legs and howled at the moons before snarling at Serana.

“Arturius?”

The feral creature lunged at the vampire, tackling her to the ground. He was thirsty for blood. The lycan raised its razor sharp claws and pinned down Serana who was crying out for fruitlessly for help. The lycan's hot and heavy breath smoldered over her face. The teeth gnashed violently, drawing closer to Serana's chest.

“Arturius!” she finally shouted. “It's me! You have to remember!”

The wolf took pause, staring at his prey. The creature snarled but not with blood lust. He sounded more curious as the werewolf sniffed all around. The familiar scent of his and her musk hit his nose, calming him. The beast took a step back and stood like a statue as if waiting for a command.

Serana slowly rose up off the tundra to stare at the silver wolf who was both terrifying and beautiful. “Are you...you?”

A low growl emanated from Arturius. He walked over on all fours towards Serana who stood still out of fear. He moved his head and rubbed it under her chin, nuzzling her gently with his soft fur.

Serana let out a sigh of relief as she scratched behind his ear. Arturius was extremely warm which was a good sign. It felt awkward petting someone she made love to on more than one occasion. “Do you understand me?”

Arturius tilted his head and gave an affronted snarl as he dashed away.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

The vampire sat in the snow, getting worried about Arturius with each passing minute. With nothing better to do, she gathered up the discarded armor. The sword gave her concern and wondered if touching the sheathe would hold the same fate as it did with Nova. She placed a shaking hand on the covering, not feeling any strange energies. However, when Serana traced a finger along the handle, she felt a burning sensation. She took hold of it, being as careful as possible when she tied the weapon to her side along with the crossbow. The armor was too bulky to carry and much too large to wear.

One of the bushes rustled, startling the woman. A smile formed on her face as she saw the bloody lycan carrying a mauled elk. Bones were protruding from the eviscerated carcass that was half devoured. He dropped it at Serana's feet and stared while blood stained drool dripped onto the snow.

“Umm...Thanks?” Serana tried to say without sounding disgusted. She did dip a finger into the mess and licked it clean of blood. The gamey taste wasn't satisfactory but she did her best to drink what little blood pooled in the body.

After Serana got her fill until she could find a more tasteful source, she smiled at the protective lycan. “I'm glad you are alright. I was worried you weren't going to make it.”

A growl of content answered her back.

“Okay...Umm...What do we do now?”

A claw pointed in the direction that they were heading before the elf almost succumbed to hypothermia. Arturius knelt down, motioning his head over his shoulder.

“You want me to ride you?” Serana smirked, avoiding the obvious double entendre. She carefully pulled herself up on the massive beast. The Nord woman almost fell off but clung on tightly to the fur when Arturius started running down the frost ridden path. She could feel every bulging muscle moving as he strode faster. Serana leaned down, feeling the elegant and soft fur brush up against her skin. If Arturius wasn't running, she could fall asleep with the wolf blanketing her.

They made it to Solitude as the sun was rising while the full moons disappeared. Arturius stopped, almost causing Serana to double over. He leaned up, shaking off the rider rather rudely and without warning. A sundering howl let loose as the lycan clutched his stomach, falling to his knees.

Serana watched intensely with unblinking focus, seeing the elf take form once again. Although they were out of the tundra, the cold air shocked Arturius and his naked body.

“Wh-What happened?” he asked, shivering fiercely.

Serana took the cloak she had and draped it over the elf's massive shoulders, offering a bit what little comfort she could. “You almost died from the cold. I didn't know what else to do to save you so I hoped you looking at the full moons would force a transformation.”

Arturius rubbed his temples, feeling like a forge was hammering an anvil. “I hate lunar transformations.”

“It was the only way to save you.”

“Where's my armor?”

Serana gulped heavily, unsure of the response he will give upon hearing the truth. “It was...left behind.” Before Arturius could get riled up over the loss, she quickly gave him the sword he cherished as an offering of solace. “I managed to bring this along!”

“A sword without a shield and completely naked. We are off to a great start,” he sighed as he took hold of the blade. The rays of the sun crested over the mountains, making Arturius squint. “Goddamn morning already?”

“Yeah. You ran all night. You stopped a few times whenever you needed to...umm...mark your territory. Or when you saw a deer and tore it apart. Not sure how much you actually ate as just shredded.”

“How did you manage to keep up?”

“You offered to be my ride,” Serana said, scratching behind the elf's ear playfully like before when he was transformed.

Arturius shrugged away from her hand. “The hell?”

“Aww...You liked when I did it last time,” Serana teased.

“On a more serious note...I need clothes and whatnot. I am literally naked. How much gold do we even have left?”

Serana pulled out the light weight purse and jingled only a few coins. “Not enough for what you need. You'll be lucky to get a burlap sack for cover.”

The cold ground was stinging his feet the longer they stood still. He surveyed the landscape and knew they were close to the Solitude. “We need to get moving.”

“You want to stroll into the city like that?”

Arturius shrugged the cloak off his shoulders and wrapped it around his waist instead. “Better?”

“I love how it brings out your eyes,” she smiled devilishly.

Arturius ignored the comment and started moving down the road. His calloused feet offered some protection but could feel the cold sting with each step. It wasn't long until they crossed paths with someone who gave him a strange look.

“Well, what do we have here? You get robbed of your clothes there, elf?” the Redguard man asked.

“Something to that effect,” Arturius grumbled.

“Unless you are a werewolf and you just now turned back. Am I right?”

The naked elf stared hard, unsure of how he knew such a thing. He took notice of the silver bow on his back. “Are you a hunter?”

The Redguard man chuckled. “In some sense of the word, I am. I had a close friend of mine who seemed to come back naked after running around as a werewolf. Was having deja vu when I see you walking this way.”

“Oh,” Arturius said as he relaxed. “I saw the silver bow and thought you were one of those people who hunt down werewolves.”

“The Silverhand? Don't insult me by thinking I am those lowlife trash.”

“I meant no offense,” Arturius apologized.

“We're going to be on our way. Excuse us,” Serana said, not wanting to waste any more time.

“Before you go,” the dark man said as he toss a small bag of coins at Arturius. “You caught me in a most charitable mood. Go get yourself some clothes in Solitude.”

“Are you sure?” Arturius asked, confused over the kindness of a stranger.

“If you don't want it, you could always give it back?”

“Thank you,” the Dunmer said sheepishly.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure the next time you morph, have a set of clothes handy.” The man waved dismissively as he walked down the road towards his own destination.

Arturius weighed the gold in his hand and was shocked at how much there was. “Strange man.”

“Are you really complaining?” Serana asked.

“No, it's not that. There was something...off about him. Can't quite put my nose on it.”

Serana shook her head. “You're just being paranoid. Let's get you some clothes.”

* * *

When they got the the gate, the guard gave Arturius a strange look. “Pretty dangerous to be running around almost naked there, elf.”

“That's why I am here. Heard the best clothing merchant resides in the capitol.”

“Good luck trying to afford it, grey skin,” the guard mocked.

Arturius' jaw tightened but said nothing in kind as the two of them entered through the gates. Serana was awestruck at the amazing fortification and architecture of the hold.

“Last time I was here, it was just a small fort and some houses. Now look at it!” she said, spinning around with outstretched arms.

“Like a kid getting a sweetroll,” Arturius said with amusement. “First time I came here, they were staging an execution.”

The happiness drained from Serana's voice upon hearing such news. “Whatever for?”

“He helped the man who killed the High King escape. After that, he was caught, tried, and killed.”

“And the person who killed the High King?”

“He is the Jarl of Winterhold.”

Serana raised an eyebrow. “Still? Why haven't they done anything?”

“Remember what I said about the civil war that's been going on? That's why.”

“Oh. Guess that makes sense. Learn something new every day.” The vampire looked around, studying the surroundings. “Now...Where is this clothing place you were talking about?”

“Right this way,” Arturius pointed as he walked towards the shop in question.

When he opened the door, he was met with a pair of disdaining eyes from two Altmer women. They looked at each other until the taller one spoke up. “We believe you are in the wrong store. If you are looking for handouts, I would suggest the temple.”

Arturius scoffed as he walked up to the counter and laid out the sack of coins, much to the high elves' surprise. “I need something that fits, if you do not mind.”

The taller one sneered and walked away without helping. However, the other woman decided to be of more use. “We provide clothing for all of Solitude's most... _influential_ residents. But for you, I'll make an exception." Serana rolled her eyes at the obvious insult but said nothing.

“Thank you. My clothes got stolen and heard a lot about this place.”

“As most people have. Now, what are you looking for exactly besides _clothes_?”

“Umm...I am not really sure.” Arturius took a deep breath to clear his mind. “Clothes are not my expertise so I will trust your judgment on what I would do best in.”

“Hmm...Right this way then,” the seamstress said, dragging the half naked elf to a corner with mirrors. She pulled out a knotted string and started measuring his legs and arms, doing her best to not be disgusted by the scars. “My, my...Going to take a bit of fabric to cover your lengths.”

“I will be honest though. I don't want anything fancy. Just whatever you can make fast.”

“Figures,” the elf sighed. “Probably would not care if I piecemeal together burlap and cotton.”

“Something comfortable, preferably.”

“If price is what you are worried about, you should have really found another place,” the owner said as she stood up and started walking away. “Luckily for you, I think there is something in your size in the back.”

Serana approached the Dunmer standing in silence. “At least these Altmer aren't as bad as the ones from before.”

Arturius nodded in agreement just as the seamstress returned with only a pair of dark blue trousers. She tossed him at the dark elf without consideration. “See how these fit you.”

Arturius kept the cloak wrapped around himself as he tugged up the pants. They fit surprisingly well for being pre-made.

“They look nice,” Serana commented.

“The buffoon who paid for them never got them so I will offer you a discount on those. However, anything else will be full price.”

“Appreciated,” Arturius said as he palmed her a few coins. “That will be all for me today.”

“Just pants? You're going to walk around shirtless and barefoot like some vagabond? Well, those people at least have enough sense to use rags to clothe themselves fully though.”

“Thanks for the concern but unless you can forge armor, your services will not be needed anymore. Have a good day.” Arturius nodded and shouldered the cape.

Serana lead the way out of the stuffy shop, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. “Gods, those damn high elves are insufferable!”

“Least they didn't attack us.” Arturius counted what coins were left afterward and knew he would not have enough to buy a decent set of armor. However, he hoped he could pay for the materials and forge it himself like he did with his other armor. He never trusted the work of others. Very few took pride in their work and instead, were looking just for money.

They walked towards the castle blacksmith who was hammering away on the anvil. He wiped away the accumulating sweat that was dripping down from his brow when he saw approaching customers.

“What can I do for ya?” he asked, setting down the tongs and hammer.

“I have a rather...odd favor, if I may ask?” Arturius requested.

“Depends. Special armor or weapons have to be realistic. I ain't gonna make no magical weapon or fancy pants armor made of gold. Ya hear?”

“Actually...if I could buy the materials, I could forge it myself. That's all.”

The blacksmith studied the elf, feeling suspicious. “You worked a forge before, have ya?”

“Yes, sir,” Arturius said assertively but humbly. “I've worked with steel, iron, ebony and dabbled a bit with orichalcum as well.”

“Interesting. Never figured an elf would know such metal work. Considering your size though, it seems that it would suit ya well.” He tossed Arturius the hammer. “How about this...you forge me something simple. A dagger perhaps? If it proves to be good and all that, I will let you use my forge. What say you?”

“Toss me that apron while you're at it and we have a deal,” Arturius said with an ear to ear grin.

“While you do that...I am going to explore more of Solitude,” Serana sighed with little interest in watching such a chore.

The hammering was fading with each step as Serana walked around the cobblestone path in the castle dour. The clanging of swords rang through the air as guards in pleated black armor trained. She sought protection from the sun in the shade when one of the men took notice of the stranger.

The sweaty soldier walked over to the damsel with a flirtatious smile. “What brings you here, sweetie?”

Serana grimaced at the catcalling made from the other men who were watching their comrade’s attempt to woo. “Don't call me that.”

“Ah, come on. Don't be shy,” he said coyly, bringing himself closer. “There's a reason you were staring at me.”

“And now I am going,” she said with a huff, turning her back towards the overly confident man.

“I'm not done talking to you!” He grabbed hold of Serana's elbow to get her to stop.

Serana grabbed the man's throat in kind, lifting him up with one hand. The man gagged and panicked, grasping desperately for her to release the grip. “Don't you ever grab me like that again,” she fumed.

She let go, making the soldier collapse on his knees as he to suck air into his lungs. The other comrades came to his defense with weapons drawn.

“You just assaulted one of the Penitus Oculatus, wench!” one of the soldiers said.

“He shouldn't have grabbed me like that,” Serana said sternly as she stood her ground without fear.

They surrounded her from the front, their wills steeled as their resolve. The one who was grabbed by the throat drew closer. “You're coming with us, rather you like it or not.”

“Thanks for the invitation but I will be going.” Serana curtsied with confidence before turning around to head back to Arturius. The guards shouted and gave chase to the woman who was now running away.

Arturius was hammering away at the anvil when he heard the commotion. He looked away from his work to see Serana rushing towards him along with half a dozen soldiers nipping at her heels. “The hell is going on?” he shouted at the men as the vampire hid behind him.

“This is Penitus Oculatus business, elf. Do not interfere!”

Arturius took one look at Serana and sighed. “They grabbed your arm, didn't they?”

Serana didn't say anything but nodded at his question. The head soldier spoke up with spite. “She assaulted one of my men!”

“Be lucky she didn't kill you. Is there any way we can just...let this go?”

“She is under arrest!” the man wrought with anger shouted, almost frothing at the mouth.

“For what? You grabbing her?” Arturius said with a chuckle, unimpressed with the squadron of men standing before him.

Before a brawl could erupt in the public view, another soldier in overly nitid armor approached the group. “What the hell is going on? Why are you here and not training?!”

“This woman attacked me, General Tullius, sir.”

The general scoffed at the story, not believing a word. “Attacked you? From what I saw, you antagonized her and she tried to walk away. Want to try again, soldier?”

The men stood silent, their weapons forgotten in their hand. “She still laid hands on me, sir.”

Tullius marched up to the frightened soldier with authority in the matter. “You started this and I am finishing it. Get back to training or so help me divines, I will throw you to the stockades myself. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” they all said in unison. They gave a salute to their leader before walking away in shame.

“Apologies for that,” he said to Serana and Arturius, keeping the conversation short as he took leave.

“And you tell me to stay out of trouble,” the elf jibbed with a smile.

“Sorry for interrupting. He shouldn't ha-”

“Have grabbed you...I know. I am not blaming you.” The Dunmer rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I am glad things worked out in our favor at least.”

“How long till you are done?”

“The dagger isn't going to be much longer. Within the hour or so?”

“And your armor?” she wondered, hoping it would not take too long.

“A day or two, unfortunately,” he confessed.

Serana's stern face showed displeasure with the answer that was given. “That long?”

“Well...Unless you plan on me defending myself without armor, it's going to take that long. You waited a few thousand years for this. You can wait but a few days, love.”

Serana bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her fangs hidden from the smile that formed. “Do you?”

“Do I...what?” Arturius questioned, unsure of what she was talking about.

“You called me 'love'. Do you feel that way?”

“I...Wow.” Arturius scratched the back of his neck uneasily. When he saw the woman before him look heartbroken over his hesitation, he quickly wrapped his thick arms around her to draw her close. “After everything that has happened, I would do it again in a heartbeat, Serana. I would kill anyone who seeks to harm you, be it human, mer, dragon, or Dawnguard.”

Serana looked up with misty eyes as she tried her best to keep her voice steady. “Say it then,” she requested with a soft whisper.

Arturius took in a deep breath and caressed his callused hand onto her soft cheek. “I love you, Serana.”

The unfamiliar words she finally heard for the first time since she was turned as a creature of the night. Neither parent has said such a proclamation and never got close enough to anyone to have themselves open up like that. Serana took in the words that would have made her heart palpitate and returned them in kind as she kissed her new found discovered affection. “I love you, Arturius.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot express how much I love Nova's personality. So cold and ruthless, yet fun at the same time. 
> 
> I feel like sometimes, this is two stories in one with some interactions between the two. I am not sure how readers feel about two plots going on at the same time.


	25. The Shadow of Death

Nova opened up the door to the Ragged Flagon without bothering to knock when she made her entrance. She stared at the redheaded thief she was looking for who was drinking a mug of booze at the bar. “It's been three days Brynjolf.”

“I know, lass. There's be-”

“If you knew then why are you sitting here with your thumb up your ass?”

Brynjolf rolled his eyes as he stood up to face the assassin. “You listen here, Nova. It's taken every single one of us three days to get all of our loot back into our vault. You said you want 15% of it? Good luck trying to carry that much because it's more than your weight.”

Nova was taken back by the sudden outburst. She wasn't upset as much as she was amused at him trying to assert his dominance in front of the guild. With Mercer now gone, she assumed that Brynjolf has taken position of leader. Nova decided to placate his attitude.

“What can I do to help move this along?”

Brynjolf and the other thieves stared with wide eyes at the humbled killer before them. “Well...If you follow me, I will show you what I mean.”

Nova followed the fellow Nord to the back where a large vault door greeted them. Mallory came with as it required two keys to open the large sepulcher. As the stone door creaked open, Nova was taken back by the amount of treasure that welcomed her. Even the 15% she demanded as payment was more than she ever made in her years in the Dark Brotherhood.

“My, my...And I heard rumors that you haven't been doing so well.”

“This is all that has been stolen over the last several years by Mercer. Now, how will you manage bringing your sum with you?”

Nova didn't say a word as she inspected the pile of jewelry. After digging through, she found a beautiful amethyst necklace in the shape of a heart to replace rather simple one that got stolen from Ysolda. She pocketed it and rummaged through the stockade some more. After pilfering some gemstones and other small luxury items in her pockets, she stepped outside the room of treasure and patted Brynjolf on the shoulder.

“That's enough for me. The contract has been fulfilled.”

“That's all?” Brynjolf asked with shock when Nova shot him a dirty look. “Okay then. If that's all you desire, who am I to object?”

“Exactly,” Nova said curtly as she made her way towards the exit. She caught a glimpse of Vex's glare burning into her. She smiled in return and blew her a kiss to remind the thief how powerless she is against the assassin. Vex submissively bowed her eyes as Mallory walked towards the new leader. Nova heard faint whispering between the two but thought nothing of it...Until Brynjolf spoke up.

“Nova...What are you doing with that bow?”

The pale Nord paused for a moment before turning around. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“Answer the question.”

“I took it after Mercer killed her. I figured a ranged attack would suffice and since mine was broken, I had to improvise and use Kharla's. That's all.”

Vex spoke vehemently at hearing her name being said wrong. “Her name is Karliah!”

“Close enough,” Nova huffed before going about her way.

“Leave the bow,” Brynjolf demanded.

Nova ignored the forced request and kept walking.

“I said...Leave Karliah's bow.”

The assassin was impressed with the sudden bout of courage the thief was exuberating. It was like he was a completely different person with Mercer out of the picture. “You are in no position to make such demands,” she replied coldly.

Brynjolf snapped his fingers and a thief that Nova didn't recognize blocked the exit along with Vex. They had their weapons ready in preparation. The assassin studied each target around her, keeping herself calm.

“Leave the bow and you may pass,” the pale haired woman said with a tone similar to Nova's.

“And if I don't?” she dared.

Vex pulled out an intricate dagger and held it with deadly purpose. “Then you don't leave.”

Nova took a fighting stance, drawing out her dagger as well. “I really do not want to conclude business in such a manner. I will warn all of you though...I can and will kill you all if you do not get out of my way.”

The woman stood her ground without flinching at the threat. “I know you were able to kill the Emperor and his men but that was through stealth and attacking from the shadows. You do not have the element of surprise on your side.”

“Listen to Vex,” Brynjolf pleaded. “You don't have a chance. Your life is not worth it.”

“I don't know,” the killer sneered. “I've grown rather fond of this weapon. I am afraid I cannot part with it. The real question is...Are all your lives worth it?”

Vex charged at the mocking assassin and Nova moved with her momentum. As the thief was falling down, Nova took the hilt of her blade and swung it hard at the back of the burglar's head. Vex was knocked out before she hit the ground. The whole company of thieves were paralyzed over the speed and accuracy she flashed.

Nova stood up, keeping her breath steady and calm. “Next one will die,” she promised as she stared at the dark haired woman who was the only one standing between her and the exit.

“You do not want to do this, Moonshade,” she advised.

Nova scoffed without worry. “Move or die.”

Before any more words could be exchanged, Brynjolf and Mallory both attacked from behind, almost catching the Dark Brotherhood leader off guard. Nova flipped backward with inhuman agility, landing behind the two attackers. She plunged the dagger into the side of the bald man, piercing vital organs. Mallory let out a gasp as blood starting to ooze out of his mouth. Brynjolf shouted in horror but was quickly silenced as Nova buried the knife deep into his chest. The only sound he was able to make was his blood gurgling out in heavy spurts.

They both collapsed at the same time, except Brynjolf was still breathing but barely.

“I'm done playing around,” Nova said as she wiped the Razor off with her sleeve. She brought her foot down on Brynjolf's throat, crushing it instantly.

The rest of the gang stared in horror at the demon standing before them. There was no hesitation or regret from her actions. She became death incarnate, ready to slaughter everyone who stood in her way. There was no contract guiding her nor the need to survive. It was just for the pleasure of it now.

The dark haired woman felt the dagger pierce her heart before she could see it. It gave one last beat before Nova twisted it, forever silencing it. Before the body could crumble, the bow was already in hand with an arrow drawn taut. By the time the thief fell into a pool of her own blood, the bartender had an arrow hit his throat.

Nova ducked as an arrow flew by, barely missing its mark. She returned fire and hit the archer in the stomach and then another in his eye. It became a slaughter as she danced through what was left the of the thieves. She didn't bother to remember their faces except for Dirge and Vipir. The bodyguard was the only one who proved to be a challenge. However, he was culled like the rest as she cut him down.

Vipir may have been fast on his feet when running through open areas but not when trapped like a scared animal. When he tried to rush past the savage killer, he fell hard onto the ground. Mehrunes' Razor was so sharp, he felt the ground before he could feel the tendons in his knees being severed. He had little time to beg for mercy as the cold blooded killer plunged the dagger into his back, deep enough to reach the heart.

When all the clan laid in a pool of shared blood, Nova wiped the sweat off her brow as well as the blood. She looked around, admiring her handiwork. As she left the butchered bodies behind, a groan escaped from one of them. She forgot about Vex.

“You...You killed them all?!” she cried upon witnessing the tavern now turned bloody abattoir.

“Except for you, yes.”

“How could you!?” Vex screamed as she sobbed, making it echo throughout the cavern. “You fucking monster!”

“I gave proper warning. If you are looking to place blame, you have but to look all around you. I had no desire for this, especially since there was no need for it. However, I will say this.” Nova walked over to the whimpering woman and grabbed her by the hair, forcing her eyes to look into hers. “You live because I allow you to live. This is the second time I allowed such a favor. Don't throw it away.” Nova let go and stood up. As she strolled away she looked over her shoulder one last time. “If you come seeking revenge, you will die more painfully than what I did with Mercer.”

As the assassin reached for the door, she quickly dodged to the side as a dagger stuck itself into the wood. “I won't let you get away with this!”

Nova notched another arrow and struck Vex in the knee, crippling her. “Oh, sweetie...You just made your last mistake,” the Listener said with a devilish smile as she pulled out her knife. The smell of terror was never so prominent as the assassin approached the final living member of the guild.

It took an hour before Nova grew bored and finally finished off her human pin cushion. Even with her tongue cut out, she still managed to scream. Even with broken fingers, she still tried to choke Nova. Even with every bone completely shattered in her leg, she still tried to crawl away. Nova found her perseverance most entertaining. After washing as much of the blood off as possible, the Dark Brotherhood leader left the massacre behind. She was satisfied with how everything turned out as she was able to keep the bow.

* * *

Ysolda was humming a song as she swept around her home, keeping it as malicious as possible. As she finished cleaning up the floor, she checked on the sheppard’s pie that has been baking carefully. With the crust turning golden, she pulled it out and let it cool on the windowsill. When she turned around, Nova was standing behind, startling the housewife.

“Dammit, Nova! You know I hate that!”

The pale haired Nord reached into her pocket and withdrew the amethyst necklace, dangling it front of her wife's shocked eyes. “Are you still upset?”

“Gods, that is...so beautiful,” she said in awe.

“I know it's not the same as the wedding band but I hope this makes up for it being lost.”

“I absolutely love it!” Ysolda cheered, kissing her wife passionately. When she pulled back, she noticed a fresh, red stain near the roots of her hair. Darkened almost like dried blood. “Where did the blood come from? Have to kill Brynjolf to get that necklace?” she joked. However, Nova's face took a serious turn.

“You need to sit down for what I am about to tell you.”

Ysolda took a deep gulp, unsure of what her wife was going to say. She sat down on the cushioned bench that adorned the living room. “What's going on?”

Nova's breath was shaky, making Ysolda even more nervous as she has never seen her wife this way before. “There was an incident with the Thieves Guild that you need to know about and I don't want you to hate me for it.”

The tears started welling up before Nova could say anything else. “You didn't...You couldn't!”

“There was a disagreement over the matters of payment that was owed,” Nova explained as she bent the truth to her own benefit. “When the terms were disagreed upon, they didn't believe my threats. I simply knocked out one of them as a warning but then I had to defend myself. I...They're all dead,” she said, trying to put as much sympathy into her statement as possible without sounding fake.

Ysolda sat petrified at the news. She became a crying statue. “How could you?” she whimpered. “How could you!?” It was now a scream of rage as she brought her fists down with hysteria.

Nova took the weak, flailing hits with ease physically. However, it was her wife's cries that caused the most pain. “It wasn't my choice. I didn't want this to happen.”

“Oh bullshit, Nova! You never liked Brynjolf or the others!”

“And I could have killed them all when I felt like it but I never did. We had a nice business deal between us. However, they crossed a line over the payment. That does not go away unforgiven!”

“And that justifies killing them?! You don't get paid and they get the death penalty?!”

Nova scowled as she stood up from the couch. “There are some things you do not understand. I already told you, I didn't want this. Okay? One of them attacked me and I knocked her out. I gave them fair warning that the next one who did would die. They didn't seem to care and I did what I had to do. The fault lies with them!”

At the end of the rant, Nova was breathing heavily. Ysolda still was sobbing to the point of hyperventilating, having a full blown panic attack. Nova went over to try and comfort her but Ysolda shoved her away. “Don't you dare! You just murdered not only my friends but the whole reason why Riften is the way it is! Everything worked because of them! What about Maven Black-Briar?!”

Nova shrugged dispassionately. “The only power she has is through others. If she has a problem with someone, she hires the likes of me. She can't do anything.”

Ysolda's lip quivered at how nonchalant her wife was being. “You just have everything figured out, don't you?” She tore the new gift she received and threw it back at her wife in disgust. “You can keep it.”

Nova let the jewelry fall to the ground without care. She instead left the room to leave her wife alone. The assassin grabbed a bag and started stuffing winterized gear into it. She turned around to see her fuming wife blocking the doorway.

“Now you're leaving!?” Ysolda shrieked.

“I am heading up to Dawnstar for a while. I'll be back in a few days when things calm down,” Nova said dully.

“Fine! Run away then! Don't expect me to be waiting for you if you do!”

Nova took that as a threat and drew herself close to the now scared spouse. “And where will you go? Hmm? Going to stay with the cats?”

“Just leave...”

Nova's face twitched at the affronting suggestion but said nothing more as she grabbed the bag. When she stormed out and slammed the door, Ysolda collapsed on the bed and sobbed. The sheets were stained with her tears as she let loose the torrent of sorrow and anger within. She realized that her wife wasn't bluffing when she heard Shadowmere's hooves gallop away, making her cry out more.

* * *

“How do I look now?”Arturius asked, showing off his newly forged armor. It gleamed with silver as ebony bonded the plates together. He made sure it was polished to a mirror finish which made Serana squint with the added glare.

“You are quite the handyman. Guess it was worth the wait,” she complimented.

“Glad you think so,” Arturius grinned as he picked up Serana in his arms, lifting her high into the air. “I ever tell you how glad I am for all this?”

Serana smiled at the affectionate elf. “Not since yesterday.”

Arturius lowered her down just enough to kiss her once again, smiling against her lips. “Thanks for your patience with all this. I know it wasn't easy having to wait while I finished but I assure you; no more delays.”

“Do you plan on setting me down or are you going to carry me the rest of the way?” Serana playfully teased as she brushed the elf's long, dark hair from of his face.

“Lead the way then,” he said as he put the vampire down on the ground.

After burning most of the day traveling through the wilderness and along the northern shoreline, Serana stopped at a jetty with a boat. She pointed her finger across the large body of water at the ominous fog that clouded the way. Arturius squinted, trying to see what was there beyond the sea level clouds.

“The castle is there,” she said with a heavy voice. “The large fortress was built on a desolate island in the Sea of Ghosts several miles from the mainland. Fog prevents anyone from noticing, even during the day. It's the perfect cover.”

“Impressive,” Arturius nodded. “Didn't even know there was such a thing out there.” The hunter looked at the vessel with unease, unsure of how safe it was.

“Something the matter?” Serana asked as she untethered the boat from the tree.

“Sure that thing will hold?” he asked nervously.

“Of course. It would not be here if it didn't. Now come on, we only have a few hours of daylight left.” Serana hopped in the watercraft, waiting for Arturius to join. The elf stood still, unwilling to move at all. Serana was confused until she could hear his heart's rapid beating. It was absolute fear that gripped him tight. “Are...are you afraid of water?”

“No!” he snapped defensively. “Why would I be!?”

Serana shook her head at the false bravado. “Arturius, it's okay to be scared. I am sure there is a reason for it.”

The elf bit his lip nervously as he peeled off a thin layer of skin. “Remember that old hag from when I was at the orphanage? Whenever I messed something up, she would throw me into the ravine as punishment. Never been around bodies of water since then.”

“Gods, no wonder you're terrified,” Serana said with empathy. “If you want to stay here, I understand.”

“No! I am not terrified!” he boasted as he summoned up the strength to get on the boat.

Serana could almost feel his heart beat erratically, almost ready to escape both his ribcage and burst through his plated armor. She sat in front of the anxiety ridden elf and forced her will upon him. “Arturius...I want you to calm down. Okay?”

The Dunmer's red eyes that were consumed with fear became relaxed at the words she crooned. “Calm down,” he repeated like a zombie.

“Just stay relaxed until we get the castle, okay?”

Arturius nodded slowly at her command, letting a bit of drool escape from his mouth. Serana finally made it to the shore line of the castle that the vampire used to call home. Arturius snapped out of his daze, confused over what happened. The dull headache he had experienced before answered the question. “What in the...” The elf stopped mid sentence and looked up at the castle and then back at the mainland miles behind him.

“You didn't have to experience the boat ride. Figured it would be easier that way,” Serana explained without any regret.

“I...guess. Still could have asked though,” Arturius groaned as he tried to rub away the dull pain.

“Now where is the fun in that?” she said as she hopped out of the boat. “Follow me. The side entrance is clear over there.”

Serana went off to the side of the rocky shore, guiding the hunter towards the secret entrance where her mother worked. As impressive as the castle was, this side was in a sorry of dilapidation. Where there was once a door, it has long since rotted away. It was pitch black inside, a complete void.

“So damn dark,” Arturius complained. Even though he was right on Serana's heels, he couldn't see her.

“This part of the castle is abandoned. Use your magic,” the vampire suggested.

Arturius shrugged and went with it as he summoned a ball of light in his hand. Cobwebs and mold from the humidity caused by the sea truly gave the impression of no one being down here for centuries, save for a few rats scurrying about. As they went deeper into the bowels of the castle, the air was more dry but stagnant. Arturius followed the vampire as she knew the way. Although it has been millennia since she stepped foot inside, her time in stasis made it seem like only a few weeks has passed.

When Serana opened up one of the doors, a wave of fresh air hit Arturius' nose, making him sigh with relief. He walked out of the stale and moldy atmosphere of the catacombs and looked around the courtyard. Serana was shocked at the state it was in as wild weeds overran the sanctuary.

“My mother spent hundreds of years tending that garden,” she sighed with disappointment. She was due for even more heart break at the collapsed furniture that she and her mother would sit at together after tending the garden.

“What's with the sundial? Never would have figured vampires would ever need one.”

“You would be correct. However, it's a moondial.”

Arturius didn't bother asking how something like that managed to work. “So...What now?”

Serana looked around with confusion. “I...I don't know. I was hoping to find some answers here. Some clues or a trail.” The letdown hit Serana hard as she rested her back on the moondial. “Guess we are just chasing echoes.”

Arturius walked around the courtyard when a small glimmer caught his eye. He looked down at the rancid, unkempt pond filled with mold and gnats. Wanting to sate his curiosity, he brushed away the filth and picked up an ornate disc. Despite eons of neglect, the weird artifact still shone. It had a circle in the middle, half silver, half ebony. “What is this?”

Serana stood up and walked over to see what the Dunmer was talking about. “It's one of phases of a moon for the dial.”

Arturius studied it for a few seconds before retreating back to the lunar piece. He walked around the large monument and noticed it was missing a few more pieces. “Think if we find the rest, something will happen?” Arturius suggested.

“Got nothing to lose,” Serana replied as hope returned in her voice. She inspected the garden and found a piece of the quarter moon sign. Arturius found another without much trouble. “This is the last piece,” the vampire said as she slid the crest into proper position.

They didn't wait long before the large triangle started to rotate. The two took a step back as the ground started to shake. When the monument stopped, Arturius' jaw dropped at the hidden spiral staircase that emerged.

“Gods...How did you not know about this?”

Serana stared, equally as shocked. “She never showed me this before.”

“Never?”

Serana didn't answer as she looked down the spiraling descent. “Guess this is the trail we were looking for.” She moved down the steps with Arturius following close after. The steps kept going down deeper and deeper until Arturius had to once again, use his magic to see. The air was incredibly thick as they traveled deep underground. Suddenly, the stairs stopped corkscrewing and flattened out into a long corridor. There were no signs of life as the two moved along. No cobwebs or even a speck of dust greeted them. Just perfectly smooth stone hall with a massive door at the end.

Arturius approached it first and tried to open it. He struggled greatly as he put as much force into it as possible but the door didn't budge. Serana nudged him aside and the second she put her hand on the handle, it opened on its own.

“Guess it needed a vampire's touch?” Serana shrugged. When they passed through the entrance, Serana gasped with awe. “My gods...So this is my mother's laboratory.”

The light that Arturius had only showed part of the room but noticed there were unkindled torches on the wall. One by one, he lit them up, bathing the room in light. Reagents, components, and jars filled the shelves that adorned the workplace.

“Think we will find anything besides alchemy recipes?” the elf asked, seeing withered, shriveled flowers and other plants trapped in jars. On a table between the shelves were bones of several different animals, including teeth that belonged to a dragon. Arturius didn't even want to know how they got there. A small stone mortar filled with white powder stood by itself. He looked over at Serana and saw her fingering through books stacked neatly on a shelf. “What are you looking for?”

“Notes, a journal, anything that might help us,” Serana said as she shuffled through the documents, creating a mess the more she looked.

Arturius left her to it as he explored more of the area. A large bowl shape area in the ground caught his attention. Bone colored bands circled around the depression neatly, making him wonder the importance. Before he could get too lost in thought, Serana shouted with joy.

“I found it!” Arturius abandoned the area and walked back to see Serana reading through a bright red journal furiously. She slowed down and looked through the page carefully when she read something that caught her eye. “Oh my...She did it.”

“Did what?”

“Remember when we talked about the Soul Cairn? My mother found a way to enter it.”

Arturius didn't know how to respond. “That's...good?”

“Good? This is great! If my mother is there, we can talk to her and hopefully get information on the other elder scroll...Hell, she might even have it!” she said with excitement. Serana rummaged through the journal some more before hope drained from her face. “Oh no...One of the ingredients we need is her blood. Gods dammit!”

“That seems weirdly specific. Why only her blood? Besides, you have your mother's blood. Shouldn't it still work?” Although he sounded silly for suggesting such a thing since he knew nothing of alchemy, Serana almost tackled the elf with a hug.

“That should do it! It might just needing the blood of a vampire or probably some of a true vampire!”

“Are you sure? I never messed around with these arts before. What if something goes wrong?”

“Now is not the time to argue this. We're so close. I can't give up now...Can you?”

Arturius heard the desperate plea and shook his head. “Said I wouldn't give up on you. I am a mer of my word. So what do we need?”

Serana opened up her mother's journal to reread the passages again. “Okay...We need purified void salts, soul gem shards, and powdered bone.”

“I am not sure what the other two look like but I think I saw some powder made of bones.”

“You get that and I will get the other two – er...three, I guess.”

Arturius held onto the bowl while Serana went through the rest of the laboratory to find the rest of the components needed to open the portal to the other side. When the vampire returned, she was carrying the rest of what was needed. “So what now?” the Dunmer asked nervously, unsure of what to expect.

“The notes said to put them in the circle...I don't what circle that is.”

“This one?” he asked as he walked over to the area he was before.

Serana nodded with assurance. “Ready?”

“Not really,” Arturius coughed.

Serana took over and carefully poured the reagents. She then pulled out her knife and held the edge of it against her palm. “Here goes nothing.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...That was quite unexpected. I was kind of sad how this went down with the thieves guild and even more so with what happens later on. However, tis but a means to and end.
> 
> As for the two lovers, we all know who is coming to show up next. Dun dun duuuun. The interaction is more in depth than in the game and it plucked a few heart strings.


	26. Echoes of the Past

The dagger had enough of an edge to cut through the skin, making her hand bleed. Serana held it over the collected pile and watched as the void salts and bone powder become saturated. The gem shards reacted as they pulsated gently with thrumming light. They both took a step as they felt the ground shake. The large circle started to sink in as dark purple energy flowed out, extinguishing some of the torches in the room. The ambient glow of the newly opened portal gave Arturius a haunting chill.

“So this is the Soul Cairn,” Serana said in a quiet whisper.

Arturius stood his ground, not wishing to step any closer to the portal. “L-lead the way,”

“Scared?” Serana teased, knowing full well he was by the way his heart was pounding. What intrigued her most was how he was more terrified of the water than of the portal to the land of lost souls. She moved down the winding stairs, entering the abyss.

Arturius followed Serana to prove he wasn't going to back down. The tendrils of energy warped around the elf as he tried to descend down the magical stairs. The energy pushed back with rejection. The more he tried to force his way through, the more painful it has become.

“Stop!” she shouted, making the Dunmer flinch. Serana grabbed him by the collar of his armor and pushed him back from the void. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

“What are you talking about?” Arturius felt fine despite being slightly short of breath.

“You were trying to force your way in. Your soul looked like it was being torn from you the harder you pushed. Any more and you would have died.”

The elf stared back, unsure of what to do at that point. “What happened? Why can you go in but I can't?”

“I was afraid of this,” Serana sighed as she walked out of the void. “The Soul Cairn is sort of the land of the dead. You're still fully alive.”

“So I can't help you? I have to sit out here and wait?!”

“Well...There are ways you can get in. I am not sure if you will like either one though.”

Arturius shook his head, knowing full well what one of the options are. “I am not becoming a vampire.”

“Then the other option is I partially soul trap you as an offering.”

“What? Soul trap? Won't that kill me?”

“No, no, no! Not fully. Just a part of your soul. Enough to get you by.”

“So those are my choices? Become a vampire, become 'partially' soul trapped, or stay here while you go in by yourself?” Arturius laughed at the options, unsure of which one is worse.

“I'm sorry. I don't know of any other ways.”

The despondent elf stared into the vortex of swirling magic. “What will happen if you do the soul thing?”

“You will be weakened. With your strength now, it will probably be limited to that of an average man.”

“Is it permanent?”

Serana shook her head. “Course not. I can release it afterward. I promise.”

“Okay,” Arturius sighed. “Let's do it.”

Serana folded her arms and gave a worried look at the Dunmer. “Are you sure? You don't ha-”

“I am not letting you go in by yourself!” he interrupted.

“Okay,” Serana said as she walked over to the collection of souls gems her mother kept around. She grabbed a fragment of blackened one and turned to face Arturius. “Ready?”

Arturius nodded his head. “No...So hurry please.”

Serana raised the fragment in the air with one hand as she weaved the same dark energy from the Soul Cairn with the other. “Hold still.” The tendrils of energy spilled from her fingers and wrapped around him.

Arturius closed his eyes at the incoming pain but it never came. He opened his eyes slowly and looked around. “Is that it?”

“Try to enter the Soul Cairn now.”

Arturius grew tense as he approached the portal. However, the wisps of magic ignored him as he walked through effortlessly. He looked back at Serana at the success she pulled off. “It worked.”

“Lead the way,” she said, impersonating the elf.

Arturius didn't know what to expect when he entered through the portal all the way. The long steps hovered a few stories in the air, leading down to the wasteland. The elf looked all around, amazed by what he saw. The land of the dead held up to its name. Arturius was surprised to see bare limbed trees but that was the only vegetation that seemed to exist. No grass, shrubs, or anything. Over in the distance, several large towers and citadels arbitrarily dotted the dark purple horizon. He noticed white and blue glowing silhouettes of people scattered about as well.

“Are those...souls?”

Serana nodded as she stepped onto the rocky ground. “Yes. When someone gets soul trapped and dies, they are taken here.”

“By Stendarr...” he whispered. “What an undeserved fate.”

Serana looked around as she studied the surrounding atmosphere. “There's a large magical signature over there,” the vampire mentioned as she pointed over at a rather large fortress over into the distance.

“It looks like...a prison. Do you think your mother is being kept there?”

“We'll find out when we get there,” Serana stated as she walked across the barren land.

Arturius followed close behind, looking at every soul he passed by with sorrow. Most of them were silent. Others moaned out against their fate, crying in agony. Serana ignored them all without concern. What caught her attention however was Arturius' labored breathing. She stopped to turn around and was shocked at how pale he'd become.

“There's something wrong with you.”

Despite the strained breathing, Arturius waved it off. “Nothing I can't handle.”

He tried to move forward but Serana rested a hand on his chest. She could feel the abnormal rhythm. “You need to rest for a bit. I warned you that you would be weakened. If you push yourself beyond your constrained limits, you will not make it out of here.”

“I can handle it!” Arturius protested.

Serana let out a growl that rivaled his werewolf side. “Sit or I will make you.”

Arturius submitted to her demand willingly this time around and laid down to catch his breath. A growl from his stomach called out in hunger, making Arturius grumble. “Should have ate before we came to this abysmal hellhole.”

“I have some left over snowberries,” Serana offered as she reached into her side pack. She drew them across the elf's lips, tantalizing him with the sustenance. He ate in the form of inhalation more so than chewing.

“You're just as barbaric as when you are a wolf,” Serana sighed with embarrassment.

“I need to work on that, don't I?”

Serana leaned over the elf and kissed his forehead gently. “Only if you want to. Don't change yourself for my sake.”

“Well, you've already caused me to change in a lot of ways.”

“Mmm...Do share.”

“You've opened up my eyes in a lot of things,” Arturius said, looking up into the soft amber eyes gazing back. “I was so full of hate before. You taught me actions make the person.”

“Did I now?” Serana said through a simpering expression from the heart. She leaned down to kiss Arturius again. “You didn't seem that full of hate before.”

“I've killed dozens of vampires, Serana...I don't even remember most of their faces.”

“And?” she asked nonchalantly. “You did what you had to.”

“Not...always.” Arturius confessed with heavy guilt.

Serana leaned over Arturius, looking hard into the windows of his soul. “I take it you slaughtered some without warning?”

After a deep and shuddering sigh, Arturius nodded. “Yes.”

“You were a hunter with the Dawnguard. That was your duty.”

“We raided a nest of them before...They were turning people into vampires. We had to burn them all.”

“So why the regret?”

Arturius sniffed sharply before exhaling a growl. “If I but knew there was a cure, we could have done something. Some of them were begging not to die. We thought it was too late and...and...”

Serana pushed a finger to his lips, hushing him gently. “Stop,” she urged. “You don't need to beat yourself up over the past. It's done.”

“You're right,” the Dunmer begrudgingly agreed as he leaned himself up. He reached over and grasped his new lover's hand with appreciation over the solace she provided. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Not holding that against me. I been feeling so torn about that since the first time we...umm...”

Serana almost felt insulted over the lack of trust but understood nonetheless the burden of past mistakes that haunted him so. “It really had nothing to do with me when it came to those you hunted. Besides, you're a good man – I mean, elf.”

Arturius beamed from the adulation he received. “Trying to make my ego swell?”

“I can make other parts of you swell,” Serana said she licked her lips. “However, we do not have time for such pleasantries. We need to keep moving.”

Arturius agreed and stood up as he dusted off the desolate sand and dirt from his backside. “What are you going to say to your mother if she is there?”

“Just where the Elder Scroll is,” Serana replied coldly.

Arturius didn't want to pry too much but figured she still held resentment over the ritual that was forced upon such an innocent girl. He marched on and once again, was feeling exhausted. The weight of his armor was hindered him greatly with each step. Instead of picking up his feet with each step, he dragged them.

“C-can I have my soul back y-yet?” Arturius requested with strain.

“If I had it, I would,” Serana answered.

Arturius stopped in his tracks. The rage inside him started reaching a boiling a point. “Excuse me? You...lost it?”

“It was the offering to get you in here. I already ex-”

“You said you could release it!” he shouted, making Serana flinch at the explosive rage.

“And I didn't lie!” Serana cried out. “We just need to find it first in order to release it!”

“Where is it?” Arturius growled. He could feel the hair on his body raise with tension as the wolf inside was ready to emerge.

“Just trust me! Please! We will get it back, I promise!”

The adrenaline coursing through his veins offset his weakened state. “Don't ever lie to me like that again.”

“I didn't lie...I just...didn't give you all the details.”

Arturius towered over the vampire, his blood red eyes pierced through hers. “Next time you want to gamble, don't use someone else's soul as the bargaining chip.”

Serana didn't say anything as Arturius kept moving towards the citadel. She kept her head low with shame at the manipulation she pulled and knew it was wrong to do so. As they drew closer, Arturius stopped dead in his tracks and quickly drew his sword out.

“What i-” Serana tried to ask but saw why the elf stopped. A behemoth of a skeletal guardian walked towards them with heavy footsteps. It pulled out a large battle axe that looked to be made of bone. It lurched its way forward, causing the ground to shake more with each step drawing closer.

Arturius secured his helmet and charged forward, using his brand new shield as a battering ram. The giant axe came crashing down but the warrior dodged at the last moment, narrowly missing being cleaved in half. He slashed at the knee with his sword, making the skeletal monstrosity stagger. Serana took advantage of the distraction and launched a bolt of lightning at its skull. The chalky white bone charred at the magic attack but had little other effect.

Again, the creature swung its massive axe. Arturius couldn't move out of the way fast enough so he braced himself the best he could to block the assault. He was launched backwards several feet. The battle virgin shield almost sundered under the ruthless onslaught.

Serana panicked at her lover being flung like a ragdoll and started showering the skeletal construct with ice. The creature diverted its attention away from the elf and rushed toward the vampire. Serana kept walking backwards as she unleashed the blizzard from her fingertips, slowly encasing it in ice. The creature's movements became more and more sluggish as the storm started to halt it. Arturius joined the fight once again and struck from behind its knees, hoping to fell the giant. When it dropped to its knees, Arturius leapt upon the beast and started hacking away like a madman. He drove the Dawnbreaker deep inside the skull and was bucked off by the enraged creature. His sword was still stuck and was left without a weapon.

Serana kept hitting it with a torrent of frozen magic. She focused her energies and formed a giant spear of ice. With a loud shout of fierceness, she heaved the heavy ballistic straight into the eye socket of the breast. It pierced through the back of the skull but still remained standing.

Furious at the skeleton's resilience, Arturius unbuckled his armor. Serana kept its attention centered on her while the werewolf emerged once again. The hairy beast latched onto the bone construct and started tearing out ribs, relentlessly ripping apart anything he could get his claws on. The lycan's teeth sunk into the spinal column and effortlessly ripped the guardian in half. The magic that bound it together severed its connection and finally brought the construct down in a pile. As it did, wisps of white energy emerged and started flowing from it and into Arturius, making him feel revitalized.

The wolf transformed back into his normal and naked self once again. “I feel...better now,” Arturius said as he flexed his muscles, feeling like his old self once again despite his itchy skin. “Did that thing have part of my soul?”

Before they could discuss the possibilities, a voice that Serana hadn't heard in years spoke up from a distance. “Serana?!” a woman called out.

“M-mother?!”

Arturius quickly pulled up the trousers to cover up the embarrassing situation. He turned around and saw an older woman standing near Serana. She didn't look all too happy at the reunion with her child.

“What in the hell are you doing here?! You have any idea the danger you put yourself in? The world as well!?”

“I...I had to come see you, Valerica,” Serana whimpered. The courage she had against the creature she fought has waned at the chastising her mother gave.

“Did Harkon find out where you were?”

“He almost did but luckily, I was saved.”

“By that mangy mutt?” the elder vampire fumed. “Now you are trusting those beasts?!”

“I'm right here,” Arturius said as he approached the mother and daughter. “Arturius Ras’zagal. I've been protecting your daughter this whole time and helping her stop her father from dooming us all.”

“This is between me and my daughter, lycan. You think you are helping but you only made things worse,” the elder spat. “Years of planning to stop that insane husband of mine...”

“Mother, stop! Arturius has sacrificed so much to help me out. If it wasn't for him, Father would have captured me already and led the way here. You should be grateful!”

“You did such a stupid thing coming here. You should have done the sensible thing and killed her.”

The sting of what her mother said made Serana's voice crack with sorrow upon hearing such a horrible thing. “You...you wish me dead?”

“Instead of being a pawn in your father's plan? Yes,” she answered coldly.

When Arturius finally mustered up his strength, he got back on his feet and stood almost nose to nose with Valerica. “You should be ashamed to call yourself her mother. Serana is the one of the most brave and fierce people I've ever met and you treat her like shit!”

“The only thing you have done was help seal the fate of the world as we know.”

“I seek to stop this madman! What have you done besides hide your daughter in a hole and you in this world of lost souls?!”

“That was for everyone's protection! Haven't you been listening?”

Arturius scoffed at the notion. “That's a piss poor excuse. You were just scared. You've done nothing to stop this vampire except postpone it. Now, we have a chance to stop this plan from happening. So are you going to sit here and point fingers or are you going to fucking help?” By the time Arturius finished his rant, he had to gather his breath once again.

“And how do you plan on stopping Harkon? Going to use that little pig sticker? You'll be dead before you even get close.”

Serana filled in that field of questioning. “We read the scroll you gave us but you already told me what was in there. We figured you would have the other scroll to help us find the bow.”

Valerica shook her head. “It is long gone at the bottom of the sea.”

Arturius clenched his fist as well as his jaw over the news. “Why even bother coming to this realm if you threw the scroll into the damned sea?!”

“Because I've already been told what was in the scroll. After that, I threw it down into the watery depths. It was the best course of action at the time since the secret now lies with me.”

“And that is something you're not willing to give us, are you?”

“Let me ask you something. Have you been hindered by Harkon at all? Have you fought any of his minions trying to get here?”

Arturius was confused as to why she brought that up. “Not since I rescued Serana.”

“That's because he wanted you to seek me out! If he couldn't get Serana, he would get me instead. Both of us are Daughters of the Coldharbor! Do you get it now?”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Serana shouted to stop the bickering between her love and parent. “Mother, I implore you...It stopped being safe when Harkon discovered where I was. It was only a matter of time before he figured out how to solve the rest of the prophecy!”

The elder vampire's visage grimaced over the thought of that happening. “So how did _he_ manage to get involved in all this? He just stumbled in and saved you?”

Arturius answered on his own behalf. “I was with a group of vampire hunters tha-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Valerica launched herself at the elf and tackled him to the ground. “A hunter!?” She raised her hand up in the air and Arturius heard the familiar crackling of lightning. Arturius tried with all his strength to push her off but she overpowered him like he was a crippled child. Before Valerica could finish off Arturius, Serana threw her mother off the elf.

“That's enough!” Serana cried out, being on the verge of tears.

“Oh stop it, Serana! You act like you're in love with the fool.”

Serana stood next to Arturius and helped him back up but didn't let go of his hand. “I am.”

The lightning still crackled in her hands but grew more violent. “You _dare_ defile my daughter!?”

“I wasn't the one who sacrificed her to a demon!” Arturius yelled back.

“Stop it, Mother!” Serana screamed as she put herself in front of Arturius to protect him.

Valerica kept the lightning magic swirling in her palms, ready to unleash and turn Arturius into ash. “How naive are you, Serana? You trust this stranger – this hunter more than your own flesh and blood?”

“He has done more for me in the last few weeks than you ever have!”

Both Arturius and Valerica were taken back by Serana's outburst of words. “Is...Is that how you truly feel?” the elder vampire asked as she withdrew her magic.

Serana nodded solemnly at the inquiry. “I am just sick of being a pawn in both you and Harkon's twisted game. I don't even feel like a daughter anymore. Just a tool for you both to use against each other. Not once did either of you ask how I felt about everything. You two may be against each other but either way, you act the same.”

Valerica took those words to her still heart, despite how hard they were to accept. “Serana...I didn't...”

“You didn't know what I was going through? You were there! You witnessed my death at the hands of Molag Bal as he defiled me! So don't you _ever_ say that Arturius defiled me in a such a manner. It was both you and Harkon that did such a thing!”

The silence of the feelings she kept locked inside poured out from the anger fueled sorrow. The grieving victim of eons ago emerged and cried into the comforting arms of Arturius. Although he stood in silence, the soothing feel of his hands running through her hair did enough to calm her down.

Valerica stood ashamed over the trauma her daughter had to endure for the narrow minded pursuit of her and her husband. “It was never my idea to be what we are. Still...I didn't think about what it would do to you and not only did I not stop it – I allowed it.”

“I never wanted this...” Serana sniffled as she dried her cheeks.

“I know that now, my daughter...I hope you can forgive me.”

“Maybe someday. Right now, we just need to know what was in the Elder Scroll so we can stop Harkon. That is all that matters now.”

Valerica pulled out a wrinkled and withered pierce of paper and handed it to her daughter. “If you can make sense of this, then that is where the bow is located.”

Serana unfolded the note and tried to read the strange symbols of the primitive map and scratchings passed off as writing. “ _Beyond Nchuand-Zel where the city of stone stands, down in the depths of_ _where the last survivor lives is where you can touch the sky.'_ Nchuand-Zel? Last Survivor? What does any of this mean?”

Arturius scratched his goatee as he pondered the words. “Well, I don't know about whatever-Zel, but it sounds dwarven and the city of stone is another name for Markarth. That place was built on dwarven ruins.”

“How quaint,” Serana responded before looking at the scribbles again. She traced her fingers around as she spoke. “So if this is Markarth here then where we need to go is over here; beyond the city of stone.”

“I hope all goes well with you two in your journey,” Valerica said as she hugged her daughter for the first time since their parting so long ago.

Serana was reluctant but gave a brief embrace in kind. “Are you not coming?”

“Having me out there would be twice as risky. If I were to get captured, it would not end well for me. You know what your father would to me.”

Arturius nodded as if he understood. “When it's all over, we will come back...If you wish to leave this place.”

Valerica nodded but when she looked at Serana, she saw the saddened look in her daughter's eyes when Arturius said that. “Are you sure you're okay with killing Harkon, Serana?”

“I'm not okay with it but I know it's what has to be done,” she said as she tried to remain stoic. “I know what will happen if we don't.”

Arturius knew the weight of the burden Serana carried on her shoulders and he planned to support her every step of the way. “Thank you for your help,” the elf said to Valerica with a subtle bow of respect.

“Before you go bumbling around, I want to know why a hunter is helping Serana.”

Arturius sniffed sharply at the question but could see why the elder vampire would ask. “I'm actually not anymore. I left after I realized they would rather kill Serana even if it meant the end of our existence. I didn't share the same ideals as them so I left. Haven't looked back since.”

“And this love that blossomed between you two?” she asked as she tapped her foot.

“I do love her,” Arturius said without the slightest pause of hesitation. “I would do everything in my power to protect her; no matter the threat.”

Valerica looked at her daughter when she found no hint of deception or untruth in his vow. Serana smiled as she held the elf's arm close to her. “And he has done a great job so far. I trust him completely.”

“But a lycan?” she hinted with disgust. “What's going to happen when you see him grow old and wither away while you stay the same?”

Serana shrugged at the question without much thought. “I don't think that is any of your business. We made our choice and that's all there is to it, Mother.”

Arturius kept his face reserved as he nodded in agreement. “We must be heading on our way now.”

Serana gripped Arturius' hand tight and smiled softly at her lover. However, it slowly faded away as she looked back upon Valerica. She didn't add anything else to the conversation before turning back the way they came, leaving the forlorn vampire behind. They walked for several minutes without conversation with only the moaning of the lost souls to break the silence.

When Arturius walked through the portal first, he felt relieved being back in this plane of existence. Despite being underground, the stagnant air felt more refreshing than what the Soul Cairn had to offer. When he turned around to see Serana walk through, he noticed a grim expression on her face.

“How are you holding up?” Arturius asked.

Serana shook her head as her lip quivered. Before she could say anything, her reserved facade shatter as she started sobbing in the elf's arms. She clung on tightly as Arturius held her close, unable to form any words of comfort.

“I just...The nerve of her!” Serana cried out between sobs. “To make judgments about you after what she did! Calling you a defiler?!”

Arturius continued his embrace without muttering a single word. He let out all her anger and frustration unhindered. The sobbing slowly calmed down to sniffles with a few outbursts of gasps between. Arturius kept stroking her raven black hair a few more times before speaking once again.

“I'm sorry for the troubles you experienced. I'm here for you, Serana.”

The grieving woman rubbed her misty eyes with her palm as she took in the soothing words of solace. She caressed his scarred cheek with the tear stained hand. “Thank you for everything,” Serana said with a more stable voice. “Feels foreign to have someone so kind to me.”

“I hope with due time, you no longer feel strange when offered such kindness,” Arturius said back as he subtly leaned into her hand.

She moved her pale arms around the elf's neck this time as she smiled gently back at Arturius. She gave him a soft kiss that he returned back. “I am getting more and more used to it each time. So I guess we are heading in the right direction then.”

“Speaking of which,” Arturius said as he kissed her forehead. “We should probably get moving towards Markarth.”

Serana looked behind her at the dimensional door. “Shouldn't we close that or something?”

Arturius glanced at the phantasm entrance and shrugged. “I don't know anything about conjuring. I guess it should close on its own?”

“Should?” Serana repeated with a fraught brow of concern. She reached down where the ingredients sat and pulled out the shards of the blood soaked soul gems from the concoction. The passageway started to contort and malform in twisted anguish before collapsing in on itself into nothingness. The torches flickered at the dead air rushing around from the closing.

“That solves that then,” Arturius said.

Serana tossed the fragments onto a nearby table before heading towards the exit of the laboratory. After reaching the end of the long stretch of the hallway, the corkscrewed staircase greeted them. Serana kept close to Arturius' heels as he marched up the steps. The cool air washed over them as they drew closer to the top. However, Arturius paused when he noticed how it wasn't getting any brighter. The only light was from the moons reflecting off the castle walls.

“It's night,” he said but didn't move.

“And?” Serana replied back with question while she tapped her foot impatiently.

“A large castle full of creatures that thrive at night? I am not taking any risks of capture.”

The vampire groaned but understood regardless. She turned and bounded down the stairs. “Guess we are waiting till morning light then.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time is short for me to publish my story so I am going to just lay it all out here. I have part one finished and typed up so right now, I am going to just add the rest of the chapters. Once this is done, I am going to be gone for I don't know how long. So yeah...Prepare yourself for a lot of reading.


	27. Blood and Silver

The hoof beats of Shadowmere broke through the thick snow of the tundra plain. Nova rode all night and part of through the day without rest. Any other horse would have been driven into the grave from such an excursion. She rolled off the steer and stomped over to the ornate black door.

“ _What is li-”_

“Innocence, my Brother,” Nova said immediately.

“ _Welcome hooome,”_ it greeted with a raspy voice as the door creaked opened.

Nova crawled down the stairs, not wanting to be noticed. She clung to the shadow cloaked walls and kept her footsteps light. She almost made it to her master bedroom before Nazir crept out into the hallway.

“I have the bow you asked for. I put it at the foot of your bed.” the dark man said.

Nova groaned with irritation but kept moving towards her private sanctuary. “Speaking of beds, I need sleep,” the leader snapped as she slammed the door behind her.

“You're welcome,” Nazir sighed.

After undressing herself, Nova stared at the cold, hard bed. It was a stone bench compared to the one she had at home. She hardly took the time to redecorate the room as she barely spent enough time here to do so. Still, it made Nova miss the luxurious silk sheets and the canopy that hung over her each night. Then she realized, it wasn't the extravagant fittings and pillows she was wanting but Ysolda. Before she could get lost in thought, a grating voice broke all concentration.

“ _Listeneeeer. You've been away for quite some time. What has you so tied up that you neglect your duties here, child?”_

Nova sighed at the Night Mother's voice but was careful to avoid any blasphemous thoughts. “I've finished that contract as commanded, Mother,” she said despite not being in the same room.

“ _And pray tell, why was the contact slain soon after?”_

Nova bit her lip almost enough to make it bleed. “There was a...conflict of interest,” she answered albeit hesitation. “I did what had to be done.”

“ _You are a professional Blackhand. My will is my command and I gave no such command. I am severely displeased with this course of action you have taken upon yourself.”_

“But the-”

“ _Silence!”_ the draconian Night Mother commanded. “ _I did not ask for your excuses nor is that why I have called you this night. There is another child who has prayed and you shall heed my answer. Talk to Thonar Silver-Blood in Markarth.”_

“Yes, Mother,” Nova groaned. “I'll leave after I rest fo-”

“ _Now!”_ the voice demanded.

Rage built up inside the Listener as she clenched her fists but gave into the demand. “As you will it.”

The exhausted killer put on a fresh set of the leather armor and left behind the quicksilver bow. After acquiring the one that Karliah had, Nova had little interest in any other one. After she got ready, the assassin ran by one of the initiates, almost knocking him down without care.

“Apologies, Listener,” the familiar voice of Caius said as he caught himself from falling.

Nova glared back with dark circles that hung below her eyes. “You're coming with me,” she growled.

“I'm sorry, Listener! Please forgive me!” he begged in the hopes of not repeating the punishment he still has not healed from.

Nova squinted with bemusement. “What the hell are you talking about? We have a contract and I don't feel like doing it by myself. So get your shit ready because we are leaving shortly to Markarth.”

Caius relaxed a bit after she subsided his worry. “Oh...Right away then.”

The initiate rushed off while Nova grabbed some leftover clam chowder that was tepid and peeled off the skin that formed. She devoured the more fresh part of the chowder quickly and left the bowl on the table for someone else to take care of. Before long, Caius showed up in full robes and a hood to cover his head. Nova tilted her head when she realized how much he reminded her of Festus, only younger.

“Ready when you are, Listener,” he said with a bow of respect that Nova already grew tired of.

“Right,” she said groggily as she rubbed her tired and reddened eyes. “I don't feel like traveling on horseback so we are taking a carriage. Too damn tired for this.”

“I'll go grab the driver then,” Caius insisted.

Nova followed the initiate outside to the winter air outside. The Nord squinted as she waited for her eyes to adjust from the sun reflecting off the snow. The two killers walked along the shore of the icy fjord. Nova waited as Caius rushed ahead to talk to their transporter. A bitter wind blew by that made her shiver. She threw the hood of the raven black cloak over her pale hair and secured the cord.

After the transaction was made, Nova climbed in the back of the creaky, wooden wagon. Caius sat across with folded arms and kept silent as the horses started moving to their destination. Nova laid down on the bench and covered up her eyes.

“I am going to get some rest. Unless a dragon attacks or whatever, don't wake me up,” she grumbled.

“As you wish,” the Imperial assassin sighed. Although the carriage driver tried to converse with random tidbits of his travels and life in Skyrim, Caius didn't respond. When he tried to lean back, he flinched from the pain that shot through his spine. The wounds may have stopped bleeding but it was still fresh enough to where he had to stay hunched over. He passed the time by trading small tufts of fire between each hand, tossing the ball of energy back and forth. However, every time he looked at Nova, Caius wanted to return the favor of what she did to him. Deciding against it, he stopped conjuring the magic and stared into the cloudy noon sky.

A few hours later, Nova was startled awake from a heavy dip in the road. She rose up with her Razor in hand, ready to kill. “Apologies for that,” the driver said with a chuckle.

Nova didn't say anything as she sheathed her weapon. She rubbed her tired eyes before looking at Caius. “How close are we?”

“Not sure. Never been to Markarth before,” he answered coldly.

Nova took notice of his tone of voice but said nothing about it. She leaned up on the seat and watched the trees and mountains pass by. The snowy tundra environment was long gone as the prairie and rocky landscape became more prominent.

“It's funny,” Nova said as she turned around to face her accomplice. “I hate traveling and yet, I seem to have to do it all the time. From Riften to Morthal, Dawnstar to Markarth. Gets to be so damn boring,” she groaned with a sigh.

“Then why do you not just stay and send the others out?”

“Eh...Seems the Night Mother wants me to do it personally. No idea why though.”

“If I may ask,” Caius hesitantly questioned with a whisper as to not inform the carriage driver of anything. “How did you become Listener?”

“Why do you care?” Nova inquired back sharply.

“I just...forget it then,” he said callously. “I didn't realize it was that big of a deal to wonder how you came to be.”

“Well, if you want to know that badly, that was all you had to say.” Nova sighed as she twiddled her thumbs. “You know how Cicero is not exactly...right in the head?”

“He does seem a bit off, even by our standards.”

“Well...Our former leader heard him talking to someone and wanted me to investigate to find out any treason with him. I hid in the only place possible that he would not suspect.”

Caius had a look of confusion as to what his leader meant which then turned to disgust. “You don't mean...”

“Aye...The Night Mother's coffin. Cicero was blabbering to her about how there hasn't been a Listener in a couple hundred years and how he wished she would talk to him. Then a voice entered my head and that was when she spoke to me. It startled me so bad, I fell out to a very angry Cicero. Before I could explain, the Night Mother told me to say some phrase to the jester. It was the sign that the Listener has been chosen. The leader wasn't too happy about that and after a while, jealousy and angst took hold of her. The wretched cunt betrayed me and had me almost killed by selling me out...”

Caius took in the history of the former Dark Brotherhood before he joined, amazed the things he knew little about. “So what happened afterward?”

“Turned out, the people our leader sold me out for turned on her as well. You see, we killed the commander's son and he wasn't going to let that go. He sent his whole force to attack our sanctuary. I killed the patrol outside only to find our best mage pinned to a tree with arrows. I go inside and was greeted with smoke and fire. Almost everyone was dead. Babette and Nazir were the only survivors of the massacre.”

Caius shifted his eyes at the statement. “If they were the only two, what about Cicero?”

“He wasn't there at the time. It's quite funny now but before the fall, our leader was a little outspoken about how she felt about me being Listener and the Night Mother. Cicero took her for a traitor and tried to attack her for her blasphemous statements. He ran off into the sanctuary we have now in Dawnstar. I was supposed to kill him but he put forth a rather convincing story about how he was loyal to the corpse and therefore, me as well. The joker said that our mistress was not a true leader. I didn't know why at the time but I let him live. Although he is a bothersome pest, things have turned out better with me in charge under the Night Mother.”

“That's...quite a tale,” Caius added with surprise.

“And you?” Nova asked unexpectedly as she rested her chin in her hand. “How did you end up joining us?”

The man chuckled slightly at the question. “A tale not as interesting as yours, I'm afraid. I grew up in a privileged family in Cyrodiil. Butlers that did everything for you, dressing in high class fashion that was worth more than most people made in their lifetime, and parents that only married for political reasons.”

Nova was trying to best not to yawn at the tedious story. “Can you get to the good part? Who was your first kill?”

“I was just getting to that,” Caius huffed. “Anyway, I snuck out one night to go to a tavern when some vagabond asked for some coin. I ignored him and he took offense. He charged at me with a knife but was too drunk to run. The fool ended up tripping over his feet and the dagger clattered to my feet. I could have walked away but... I didn't want to. I melted the flesh off his body. I would have enjoyed it more but it drew too much attention.”

“I take it you got caught and ran away here to Skyrim?”

“I didn't get caught that time. However, after that first kill, I felt so...alive. That boredom was banished with that thrill. I went out each night looking for more practice with my magic. I've learned how to control the fire so well, I can burn out someone's tongue and throat so they cannot scream. Eventually, the reputation of my work started to form. Infernus Sephtis soon was on the tongues of everyone in Cyrodiil.”

“Infernos...What-is?” Nova butchered, trying to repeat in his native tongue.

“Infernus Sephtis,” the Imperial killer repeated. “In more common tongue, it means 'eternal death by fire'. Quite flattering actually,” Caius boasted.

“Never really been one for magic,” Nova said with slight disgust.

“Never really been one for weapons,” he said back in the same tone of voice. “At least I never have to worry about dropping a dagger or as I have heard with you, have a bow break.”

“And I know of ways to stop you from casting spells,” Nova countered, not wanting to be outdone. “When we interrogate magi, we cripple the flow of magic so they cannot do anything.”

Caius laughed, making the Listener's face turn a shade of red. “Easy to do when they are tied down. Not so much in a fight.”

“Good luck trying to sneak a kill in when you are throwing flames everywhere!” Nova whispered harshly.

Caius was enjoying the back and forth banter when he leaned in close. “And it's easier to get away when you blind everyone with white, hot flames. Your small weapons can't pierce through those who are covered head-to-toe armor. I can broil them alive no matter what.”

“And I don't need to be close with a bow like you do with magic.”

“You do realize, Listener,” Caius stated as drew his face closer to his leader. “That both might and magic each have their strengths and weaknesses? Not saying my magic is always better. It can be at times just as your methods can be as well.”

Nova avoided his gaze for a moment before locking her icy blue eyes into his dark brown ones. “I do what I do best. I never had interest in magic nor will I ever.”

The initiate rolled his eyes before sitting straight up, being careful as to not lean his back against the carriage. “I never said you should.”

“So back to the story...How did you end up here?”

“I got angry at one of the servants and burned him alive the same way I did the others. Would not have mattered much except for my cunt sister witnessed it. She ratted me out and is now the sole heir to the family fortune...I've been on the run ever since. Tried to avoid exposing myself here in Skyrim but it was a good thing I did. Ended up catching Nazir's attention and invited me to the Dark Brotherhood. It was either that or he would turn me in.”

Nova snorted and felt a twinge of embarrassment. “He did?”

“Oh, yes,” Caius said with a smile. “I was ready to kill him but he got the best of me, I admit. Didn't have a choice really at that point but I am glad I am able to put my talents to good use. Plus, I can accumulate a fortune without having to share with greedy shits that call themselves family.”

Nova was impressed with his skill in magic despite never using it herself. A mage with focus proved most deadly. However, she has killed her fare share of sorcerers and witches with ease. The power of the bow proved to be successful as she was still alive to tell the tales.

It wasn't long until they reached their destination. Although the gloaming sky was starting to darken, there was still just enough light from the cresting sun to make it through the gates before it fully set. The whole town was built into the mountainside with caverns as homes, places of business and even slums of the undercity. A waterfall flowed through the middle for added beauty and fresh springs to drink from. Market stands were copious with fresh produce and bloody meat greeted the two visitors when they first entered. The warm atmosphere was short lived however when a commotion roused up.

“For the Forsworn!” a man shouted near Nova. She pulled out her dagger instinctively but quickly realized the man was after someone else. He plunged his knife into a back of a woman buying from the produce stand. Guards moved quickly as the wild man tried to run through the open gates. However, his knees were cut out from under him from the sentry with a large sword. Before he could mutter another word, his head was cleaved off.

“The hell was that about?” Caius asked.

Nova answered with a shrug. “Not our business nor concern. We need to find someone named Silver-Blood.”

“Silver-Blood?!” the initiate repeated with shock. “Thonar Silver-Blood is from the richest family in the Reach!”

“That's nice. As long as he pays, I don't care,” Nova stated as she walked away from the gathering crowd around the pair of freshly killed bodies. After exploring Markarth for a bit, a prestigious sign honoring the Silver-Blood family hung high on the mountainside above a door.

“Guess this is it,” Caius said.

“You think?” Nova scoffed as she shook her head. Before she could head inside, a man from her peripheral vision caught her attention. He looked to be a beggar of sorts with an affronting stench that made her want to step back several feet. Before she could preemptively decline, he spoke up.

“Listener, what conveys you to this region?” Nova didn't know who it was at first until after he removed the hood that covered his tied back, golden hair.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Triunn. I thought I told you to – ah, shit. He's here, isn't he?”

Triunn nodded tiredly. “My condolences for not heeding your dictation with Brynjolf.” The estranged killer handed Nova the unopened letter that was supposed to be delivered to the thief. “There was an alteration to the sentiment of trying to infiltrate the Dawnguard. The target seems to not be affiliated with those hunters so I've been tracking him on foot the way you suggested at first, Listener.”

Nova looked at him with a hint of sadness. Not over the slaughter of the Thieves Guild but due to the reaction from Ysolda afterward. She gripped the letter tight before handing it to Caius to burn. “You needn't worry about that,” Nova explained as the letter flashed into smoke. She took a closer look at Triunn and saw rags adorning his body, stitched in his clothes. “What are you wearing?”

“These scraps of clothes belong to the very target you had me seek out. A lycan cannot detect its own scent.” After the brief explanation, he took in a deep yawn; exhaustion was taking over. Nova was impressed with the genius Triunn exhibited. Even Caius was speechless.

“Measures had to be taken for the Dunmer and what appears to be his significant other.”

The leader rolled her eyes at the hypocrisy. “Still with that vampire? Probably made him her thrall.”

“I agree not with that assumption,” Triunn contrasted. “In the times of travel, I've witnessed arguments of the sort so it seems he still attains his free will.”

Nova rubbed her forehead at the rising argument she didn't want to have. “Where are they now?” she sighed.

Triunn pointed over at the nearby inn. “They've been residing there since earlier this evening.”

Caius scratched his hairless chin as it all sunk in. “So this is the special assignment you gave him? What is so special about this man?”

Nova ignored the question and kept talking to Triunn. “So what have they been doing these last few days?” she asked as brushed a few loose silver hairs behind her ear.

“I will try to keep it as simple as possible.” Despite his previous claim, he went into detail about how Arturius staved off a vampire attack in Riften and how he killed Thalmor agents in Serana's defense as well as avoiding a dragon. He didn't know the exact details but informed Nova about their stay at the college and their travels to a castle and then to Markarth before running each other now.

Nova was impressed with the detail of work he has put in that went beyond the expectations of what she ordered. “You know anything of their plans of why they are here now?”

“Somewhat. From what I have picked up, they are looking for a revered artifact.”

Nova took notice of the dark and heavy bags that weighed down his eyes, looking as if he hadn't slept in days. “You should get some rest and a bath. Then return back to the sanctuary after you feel refreshed.”

Triunn tilted his head with disappointment. “Did I do something wrong, Listener?”

“Not at all. You did your work and did it well,” Nova smiled and shook her head. As a gesture of kindness, she palmed him several gold coins as extra payment. “Now, go relax.”

“Would be rather difficult with the target still occupying the inn. May I assist you on this endeavor, Listener?”

“With you looking and smelling like that?” Nova pointed out. “I'd rather have the contract not thinking us as beggars.”

Triunn shrugged off his facade and tossed the cloak to the side. The stench only clung to the garb and made himself look presentable with his dark leather armor. “Is this better, Listener?”

Nova raised an eyebrow and nodded. “If you so desire. However, let me do the talking. Is that understood?” she said to the both of them.

“Yes, Listener,” the two said simultaneously.

The Dark Brotherhood leader opened up the doors to the highly regarded family manor where a butler in black greeted them rather poorly. “What business do you commoners have here?”

Nova gave a death glare to the servant who seemed unfazed. “I have an appointment with Thomar Silver-Blood.”

“ _Thonar,”_ Caius corrected behind his mask.

Nova shot a look of anger at him for speaking out of turn and more so for correcting her on frivolous details. “ _Thonar_ Silver-Blood.”

“I do not believe he has any such appointments with the likes of you three. Please see yourselves out,” the man said with his nose in the air.

“Either you tell him he has company or we will. Choice is yours.”

The butler whispered over a few body guards who stood in heavy armor and large swords that can cleave a horse in half. Caius gulped nervously as he balled up his fists. Triunn kept his face stone cold as always but rested his hand on one of the daggers he had sheathed.

Before things escalated, a bald man in lavish robes started shouting. “What is going on here?!”

“Are you Thonar? You asked us for help and we are here to assist,” Nova said, keeping the guards and butler out of the loop.

The overly rich man shook his head. “I don't know what you are talking about. Now leave.”

Nova scorned at the dismissal and started to walk away. “Guess you don't need a certain person taken care of then.”

Before she could grasp hold of the door handle, the contact spoke up. “W-wait! I believe this was a simple misunderstanding. I do think we have some business to take care of.”

Nova smirked as she turned around to see the guards stand down. The trio of assassins walked by and Caius gave the servant a smug look of satisfaction. “Do we have someplace private to discuss this matter?” Nova requested.

“Right this way,” the Silver-Blood heir directed as he lead them into vacant study in the back. He shut the door as the three assassins sat down to avoid any conversation from leaving. “So the Black Sacrament does work indeed.”

“Who and where?” Nova said, getting right to the point.

“There is this man who has been working for me under the table. However, he's been quite unruly and causing more problems than he is worth.”

“Who...And where?” the Listener repeated more sternly.

“Madanach,” he answered nervously. “He is in Cidhna Mine. A labor prison.”

Caius spoke up, despite Nova's demand moments ago. “Why not just have the guards kill him?”

“Because there isn't any guards directly watching them inside the mine. They only watch over the entrance. Not to mention they are all Forsworn. If a guard killed him, it would come back to me easily.”

Nova was confused over the problem and wanted to investigate further. “How can a man in a dungeon cause issues?”

Thonar chuckled at how simple she made it sound. “He has ties. I've been using him in my favor but lately, things have gotten out of control. He was sort of my cheaper Dark Brotherhood but now there has been mass chaos lately and I need the real deal. Understood?”

Nova rubbed her eyebrows and let out a heavy sigh. “So you want us to break into a prison and kill this so called Forsworn leader? I must say, this is a first.”

“You don't have to break in,” the man said with a wicked smile. “Not if you were 'arrested' and had to work in the mine.”

Nova shrugged as she took a goblet that was half filled with red wine off the table and gulped it down. The look of offense was prominent on the contract's face. “That's all fine and good but you said yourself that the guards do not control the mines. So unless I am going in there fully armed, that's not a good plan,” Nova stated as she set down the empty goblet.

“I am afraid I have to insist,” Thonar sternly suggested.

Nova turned her head slightly and gave but the slightest nod to the pair of assassins behind her. Caius and Triunn stood up instantly. Caius enveloped his hands with fire as Triunn pulled out twin daggers.

Before Thonar could speak up, Nova launched herself at the rejected contact with her hand covering the mouth. “What you said sounded like a threat; something I do not take lightly. We don't tell you how to run your business so you sure as fuck do not tell us how to do ours. You came to us for this, Silver-Blood. You can find someone else to do your dirty work now.”

When Nova released the opening of his jaw, she turned on her heel and began to storm out of the ornate room. The other two assassins withdrew their favored weapons and followed suit behind their leader. However, the moment the door opened, Thonar shouted for the guards. Nova withdrew her bow quickly as a large man charged furiously at the trio. She couldn't aim fast enough and the arrow glanced off his pauldron, leaving only a scratch.

Caius followed up with a heavy stream of fire to the guard's face, incinerating his eyes instantly. Another mercenary shoved the blinded one out of the way as he charged into the narrow passage. Triunn ducked ahead in a roll and kicked the man's feet out from under him, making him fly into the room and land with a heavy crash.

Chaos erupted everywhere as a brawl ensued within the manor. Nova looked behind her to see Thonar exiting through a hidden door. She notched an arrow and launched it at the back stabber but he closed the heavy panel behind him, causing the arrow to quiver into the wall.

“Get out of here and split up!” Nova commanded as she rushed out of the room to shoot the two doormen blocking the way out of the exit. The two assassins did as ordered and sprinted out into the streets. The narrow pathways that were carved into the mountainside proved difficult for the three to split up properly. Triunn was fastest and flew past everyone to clear the way. Nova stayed in the back and kept launching arrows at the pursuers.

Panic stirred up in the crowd in fear of another attack. The proper city guards stepped in to stop the fleeing suspects. Again, Caius sent a blazing wave that scorched everything in front of him. Triunn did his best to dodge but his arm was set ablaze by the intense heat. The silent killer kept his composure as he shoved aside the burning bodies that were still alive for the time being. They both made it to the gates and broke through together with their momentum.

Nova was rushing as fast as she could but felt a sharp pain hit her leg, causing her to stumble. The two underlings watched as their leader collapse onto the ground. When Triunn took a step toward Nova, she shook her head.

“Get out of here! Now!”

Before Triunn could disobey, Caius grabbed him by his injured arm and forced him to retreat out into outskirts of the city. Nova cursed at her luck and pounded the cold and unforgiving stone beneath her. She looked behind at her leg to see a familiar bolt sticking out of her bloody calf. Heavy footsteps made their way towards the wounded assassin. When they stopped at Nova's face, she looked up to see the stern scowl of Arturius once again.

“You're not going anywhere this time.”

Nova was surrounded by half a dozen of the city's watchmen when the captain approached Arturius with an outstretched hand to shake the hand of the hero.

“That was a helluva shot there. Too bad you ain't killed her,” he chuckled half heartedly.

“I don't do needless executions,” he stated coldly as he turned to walk back towards the inn.

“Hey, wait!” the captain said but it fell on deaf ears as the elf didn't pause. He shrugged it off and turned to face Nova who was still on the ground. “Are you with the Forsworn?”

Nova kept silent to his question and was met with a hard kick to the face that split her lip open.

“Answer me!”

The pale haired Nord spat out a gob of fresh blood at his feet and glared at the man. “Just get it over with. My answers will not change anything.”

The leader snapped his fingers and Nova was lifted up by a pair of guards. She howled in pain as the bolt from her leg was ripped out of her leg but was quickly silenced as the brunt of the captain's sword connected to the side of her head.

“Off to the mine with you,” he said triumphantly.

* * *

 


	28. Vendetta

Arturius opened up the door to the room to see the alluring vixen waiting for him. “So what was all that commotion about outside?”

The Dunmer chuckled as he sat at the edge of the bed and started to massage Serana's feet. “One guess as to who I helped captured just now.”

Serana instantly sat up. “You're kidding. Nova?”

Arturius nodded as he continued to rub her soft and delicate legs. “She and a pair of cohorts were running away. One of them burned down a group of innocent people. Even though they got away, I at least was able to get their leader.”

Serana giggled slightly at the ticklish feeling and pulled her legs away to hug Arturius. “You did an amazing thing today. I'm proud of you, my love.”

“Least someone is,” Arturius said casually as he turned to seal his lips against the beauty before him.

“I am sure your parents would be too,” Serana whispered as she ran her long fingernails through his dark hair.

“I wish they were still here,” Arturius sighed. “Not sure what is worse though; your parents the way they are but still here or good ones that were taken away.”

Serana leaned over on Arturius' wide shoulders and wrapped her arms around him tightly. “Whatever happened with them?”

The elf entangled his fingers with the vampire's and kissed them softly. “Tis quite a story.”

_It was the early cracks of dawn with barely enough light to see. The young Dunmer hastily got dressed in his work clothes that were stained with holes. As he approached outside, the Dunmer teenager shivered as he cupped his hands near his mouth to stay warm. “Gods, I cannot wait for the fights his evening. That will at least keep me warm.” He walked towards the barn where the bales of hay were and fluently lifted one over his head, transporting it towards the stables._

“ _You are going to hurt yourself if you keep that up,_ _julekil_ _,” a gruff voice stated from behind him. Even though Arturius was only thirteen winters old, he was already bigger than his father by a margin._

“ _I am fine, Father. I can handle these things better than you.”_

“ _It’s Ata, not father,” the elder corrected his son. “I will not have you forget your roots.”_

“Then why are we even here?” _Arturius asked himself knowing full well how upset his Ata would get over the subject. Instead, he just nodded and continued to carry the heavy bundle for the horses to feed on._

_He felt the hand of his father rest on his shoulder. “I have no idea as to how you became such an ogre sized child. I can only imagine how much stronger and bigger you can get to even match the strength of the natives,” he said with pride but also worry._

“ _But I am a native too,” Arturius protested as only such a term was reserved for those barbarians._

“ _Not to them, Arturius.”_

_The young elf crossed his arms over his barreled chest. “It makes me wonder this though. If you want me to be in touch with my roots, why give me such a name not of Dunmer origin?”_

“ _Blame your Alma for that one,” Arturius' father answered with a begrudged tone. “I wanted to name you Vanikain but she insisted on that name, Azara be damned.” The elder quickly gave a sign to the divinity as to not mean such blasphemy._

“ _Any idea why she even chose this name then?” the young Dunmer asked as he started to unravel the bundle for the horses and tossing sizable chunks to them._

_His father shrugged in response. “Something about bears and how you would be as big as one. Seems she was right after all,” he answered, slugging Arturius’ shoulder playfully._

“ _You know I can best you, Father,” Arturius challenged as he got in a wrestling stance, tensing up his already massive body to seem bigger._

“ _Ata,” he corrected. “And I know you could by physical prowess.” The elder Dunmer held his hand out with curled fingers towards the sky. His fingers wiggling back and forth to generate some sparks until his whole palm was encased in fire. “But how well is your magic?”_

_Arturius smiled simply as he bit his bottom lip. Before his father could react, he quickly closed the distance and closed his hand around the fingers that were weaving the magic. The flames died out instantly “Might beats magic.”_

“ _Perhaps you belong in these lands if you firmly believe the same as the Nords.” The elder pulled his hand away, disappointed in the words that came out of his son’s mouth. “I wish you would take some time to study the natural gift that is bestowed upon our race.”_

“ _Magic is not going to get the work here done. Besides, I have seen Nords use sorcery before.”_

“ _If you can call it that. They can barely start a fire in the hearth without becoming exhausted.”_

_If it’s one thing Arturius and his father shared, it was their unwillingness to give up an argument or admit defeat. It would not be an issue if they could agree but even the smallest differences have caused fierce debates at dinner._

“ _Least they have not used a spell to cause their homes and town to burn down,” Arturius said to counter the statement while going back to the storage for feed to accommodate the chickens next._

_His father laughed at such a thought. “If they wanted to burn something down, they would use torches.”_

_Arturius hauled over the massive bag of cornmeal and grains for the chickens, his father shouted in remonstration. “They do not need that much! That is supposed to last the month for them.”_

“ _I know this. I just like the exercise,” he stated with a smile as he set down the mountain of feed as easy as a titan would. Without a sweat being broken so far, he spread the sustenance all along the ground where the voluptuous hens gathered for their feast with zeal._

_As the elder Dunmer walked over, he did not want to be outdone by his son at such a young age. He reached over and struggled to pick up the sack. He pulled harder to the point of the vein on his prominent brow pulsated like a drum._

“ _You are going to send yourself to the grave, Ata.” The bigger and younger elf nudged his father aside but was forced back. Arturius watched in amusement as his father tried harder and harder to budge the satchel but to no avail. With sweat accumulating and the strain being too much for his body to handle, he gave up. He let go of the bag and walked away in a fit, kicking dirt and chicken feed that caused some of the fowls to flutter away. Arturius shook his head and chuckled before heaving the load over his shoulder, casually strolling back to the storage._

_After finishing up the chores for the morning, Arturius was famished from the lack of breakfast. When he walked by the open window, he heard discussion between his two parents. He crouched down to eavesdrop, not wanting not to interrupt. His father’s voice was stricken with ire._

“ _You do not understand the boy. He is more like those Snowbacks each and every day!” He slammed his fist on the table that shook the dinnerware and knocked a spoon on the ground._

_To contrast his argument and tone, Arturius’ mother spoke softly towards her husband’s affliction of resentment. “What are you so worked up about? Our son is healthy, strong, and he helps us out a lot. Remember how it would take the two of us all till the afternoon before we finish? Now, it is done hours before lunch.” She reached down and dusted off the spoon in a calm manner, not getting worked up over his behavior._

“ _It’s not about that at all!” His voice raised in attempt to prove himself right. “He has been neglecting his studies, he heads out for hours and comes back with bruises and scrapes. I know what he is turning into.” His fist was shaking till his knuckles are drained of all the blood._

“ _He is being himself, dear. There is no need to get so worked up just because he is not following the same footsteps as you. Do you think he wants to work on this farm all his life?”_

_Arturius took everything in and didn’t know what to think. He wasn’t trying to disappoint his father but use what the Divines blessed him with. It had nothing to do with him being against magic. He just prefers the raw strength since it tends to be easier such as not having to worry about the spell backfiring and melting your skin off or starting an inferno when you only meant for a campfire. He continued to listen on._

“ _I just do not want him to forget his roots, his heritage is all. He is a Dunmer, the most dangerous magics course through our veins. To deny that would be…Just…”_

“ _Horrible?”_

“ _More than just that. It was bad enough you gave him such a human name but to think he would fit in with the rest of them?! You raise hopes too high.” His palms were now starting to glow with heat, radiating small flames._

“ _Husband, soothe yourself. I will not have you burn this place down just because you cannot accept your son for the way he is. You should be proud of him.”_

“ _I am proud for him. I would be even more so if he would just show some interest in magic instead of trying to fit in with those barbaric halfwits!” Even though his voice was raised, the fires in his hands were dwindling._

_She walked over to him in confident fashion, never having been afraid of his temper. The lady elf rested her soft hands on her husband’s cheek, her voice crooned with peace to further calm the rage inside. “You needn’t worry. He follows his own path. Let him discover it on his own volition.”_

“ _Bah! Your honeyed words sweeten even this bitter man.” He wrapped his arms around his loving wife, thankful to the Gods that he was able to find and marry someone who could weave such comfort._

_Arturius sat against the wall, resting chest against knees. He was mixed with feelings of both contrite and confidence. Still, he was focused on the encouragement of his mother and her supporting ideology. He was his own person and he needed to choose the path that was right for himself. Not what others wanted of him. With pride renewed, he stood up and approached the door. Taking in a refreshing gulp of air, he walked into his home with the sight of his parents sharing affections._

“ _I finished most of the chores but I am going to need some breakfast before I can finish the rest.” He pretended not to not to notice the couple holding one another._

“ _How does eggs and dried meat sound, Arturius?” His mother smiled, walking over to the pantry that holds eggs laid fresh hours before with seasoned meat hanging from the racks. She took a knife sitting on a shelf and cut off a sizable chunk that could feed a small family. She used her apron to carry the rest of the meal consisting of half a dozen eggs to compliment the horker meat, hoping it was enough to sate her son’s massive hunger. She approached the table where the two men were sitting, only to see her husband express disbelief._

“ _All that for him?!” Arturius’ father asked with jaw dropped. “He doesn’t need to eat us out of home.” He reached over to grab half the eggs for himself but his wife quickly pulled away. Arturius sat with head bowed, not wishing to contribute to the intensity._

“ _Considering his size, he needs it. You saw the work he does. He stands a head taller than you and can move more than his weight in feed.”_

_The elder man stood up, fuming with invidia from his wife’s favor towards their son. After kicking over a stool, he muttered something explicative as he went outside. Arturius just sat there, unable to meet his eyes to his mother. Variegated emotions swirled inside like oil and vinegar. Resentment and mortification for not being the mage his father expected of him with a name unfitting a Dunmer. Arturius stood up and was ready to leave towards Falkreath before being stopped by his only moral support._

“ _You need to eat first before you run off,” his mother said, trying to show encouragement to the young elf._

“ _I am fine,” the youth stated in a monotonic voice that he used to shield himself from exhibiting any emotions. “I will find something in town.”_

“ _Sit…Now.” It wasn’t so much forceful as it was concern when she demanded it. He stood there for a moment before hesitantly returning to his seat. “Now, how do you want your eggs?”_

“ _Runny like always,” he answered as life started to return in his voice._

“ _As you desire.” She walked around the table and gave him a kiss on top his head. “Don’t ever be scared of who you are, Arturius. You mean a great deal to your father and I.”_

“ _Ata, you mean?” Arturius uttered with sarcasm._

“ _You know how he is. Old fashioned and stuck to deep seated roots that travel further than any tree.” She started the fire in the pit and smeared some leftover pig fat across the pan. The sizzling aroma filled the house with delight. As much as she did not like the extra effort of eggs over easy, it was the fastest way to prepare them. A mixed blessing she took into consideration. She grabbed one of the plates and carefully set the eggs on them, doing her best not to break the yolk, managing to save all but one. “Looks like we have a casualty.”_

_Arturius left out a half smile, appreciating the humor but not in the mood for wit. The hunger was too much. Within seconds of the plate touching the table, he already devoured one._

“ _Arturius! Show some restraint. You are not going to die.”_

_After giving a nod in an apologetic manner, he slowed down slightly. Still, it was more inhaling of food than actual eating. He tore off a piece of the dried meat to mop up the yellow residue around what was left of the eggs, savoring every bite for a few seconds. Finally able to speak without food stuffed in his maw, he complimented the meal._

“ _Surprised you can even taste anything which how fast you ate it all.” She shook her head, wondering where he got such grotesque mannerisms from._

_When he finished wolfing down his meal, Arturius gave thanks by hugging his mother and gave her a quick kiss. “I am going to head to the Hold. I will be back later.” The son gave a wave goodbye to his mother before rushing out the door._

“ _You be careful now,” she said before blowing him a kiss for good luck._

“ _You needn’t worry about me. You should worry about the other people.” A smile of arrogance renewed formed on his face._

“ _Just don’t let your father find out. He would go berserk if he knew you wrestled around with the natives.”_

“ _If only he knew how much better I was at it than they are.” Arturius left in a hurry as to avoid further conversation when he rushed out the door._

_Arturius leapt over a fence in a single bound without touching it and sprinted off through the forest. Although there was a well worn path to take, it was saving time cutting through the woods instead. Arturius’ dark hair flowed freely like black fire behind him. He saw a startled deer ready to flee and chased after it for sport and entertainment. The deer bounded forth and away, avoiding the trees and small plateaus. As the nimble elf rushed forth, he was close to tagging it with his hand. After reaching out to smack the deer on the rear, he ended up stumbling and fell face first into the ground. The young man was dazed and without breath. He laid on his back trying to regain composure from the incident._

“ _Dammit. I will catch up with that beast one of these days.” He stared up at the morning sky, watching the few clouds whisper by. When the Dunmer sat up, he could taste blood from his nose but was relieved to discover no grievous injury. The elf wiped away any excess with his forearm and continued his way towards the town, jogging with caution as to not repeat that performance. The smell of wood burning indicating he was close by. A small grazing pen offered water. He scooped a handful of water to wash away the debris and blood from his face._

“ _Hey, look at that! Arty learns his place with the animals,” a voice said that the young Dunmer knew instantly. A group of his friends laughed along with him. Arturius glared up at the Jarl’s nephew and smiled with gritted teeth._

“ _Nice to see you too, Siddgeir.” The elf kept his temper in check as to not cause disruption in the town. He always was on the brunt end of jokes from the natives, even though he towered over most of them. There were strength in numbers and numbers he did not have on his side. It was still tiring though to try and shrug off all the attacks, both verbally and physically. It was something to be endured that made Arturius stronger in body and mind. It gave him patience and understanding, to take pause before setting forth action. Lessons hard learned in the wake of adversity, not to be repeated._

“ _You are not still interested in the match set for later today? Do you think you have an elf’s chance in Sovngarde? Oh wait…” Siddgeir and his troop laughing at the spoken jab._

“ _You think yourself stronger?” Arturius swaggered over to the lot, cocky as ever. He stood a giant among mice._

“ _I am the Jarl’s nephew. You will learn your place, grey skin.” The young Nord tried getting in the face of his adversary but even on his toes, he was only able to see up his nose. The others took to his back in guarded fashion._

“ _My place is never to bow down to lesser men…Or boys.” Arturius talked down at the bothersome flea._

“ _Do you really think you could take us all on?” Siddgeir snapped his fingers and the half dozen or so followers raised their fists, ready to tackle the towering Dunmer._

_In a condescending tone, he asked with feigning worry. “That would not be exactly fair. Me versus all of you? Maybe if I tied one hand around my back or even a blindfold?”_

_Before the public brawl started, a guard walked by, grabbing Arturius by the arm. “Not causin’ problems, are ya elf?”_

_Seizing advantage, Siddgeir acted like a victim. “He was trying to scare me off from the fights! He said he was going to cripple me for good and never make me walk again!” The liar pointed a finger at his would-be harasser and all the other sycophants nodded in agreement._

“ _I did no such thing!” Arturius protested against the false accusations toward him._

“ _Let’s go, elf.” The guard was not a giant but still sizable even compared to Arturius. Still holding onto the Dunmer’s arm, he led him astray from the group of Nords who were mocking him. Not wishing to defy authority, he followed suit but with hands balled tight. The guard led him behind one of the shops and turned to face Arturius. “Ya really should not be picking fights with the likes of ‘em. Ya could seriously get hurt….or worse, lad.”_

_Confused over the unexpected warning, the dark elf asked, “Why do you care?”_

“ _Juss cuz I be a Nord does not mean I think ill towards others. I juss be saying this for ya own good. Ya dun wanna be on the wrong side of that whelp,” the old man urged caution._

“ _The milk drinker thinks he can scare me into submitting!? As if I could consider the inane suggestion.”_

“ _Aye. Tis your choice lad. But remember though; actions and consequences.” He gave a slight nod and started to walk away from the young elf._

_Arturius struck the wall with the side of his fist, remembering the broken fingers he had from the first and last time he struck a wall with his knuckles. “They think they can scare the likes of me? I tower over the cowards and can easily best them.” Pissed over the reactions, he decided to cool his temper with a stroll outside of town, taking careful consideration to avoid the bastard whose ego matches his own. Arturius didn't despise people who thought well of themselves as long as they had the means to prove it. Those that need an entourage or hide behind a title to do so is not worthy of such vanity._

_As he walked towards the edge of the woods, he rested against a willow with hanging branches. The smell was exuberant and helped put his mind at ease towards the games ahead. Arturius listened to the swaying branches in the wind as he leaned up against the trunk of the tree. The soft rustling of the leaves provided nature’s harmony to his ears._

_The day grew warmer as the sun breathed its radiance on all surfaces of Skyrim. Although it was welcoming to Arturius’ skin, he hoped it would not get too warm in the day’s events. Despite being genetically acclimated to warmer climates, he still did not want to draw too much advantage against his competition. When the hour pressed on, the young Dunmer stretched his muscles to wake them up from slumber which quickly turned to a sharp pain in his calf. A childbirth like pain exploded in the cramping muscle which met with knuckles punching the constricted tissue. After the third blow, it finally loosened up. Arturius groaned heavily, wishing this not even on his worst enemies. After standing up, he took pause to make sure it would not happen again. He limped out of the tree’s shade to make his leg work to full extent, hoping it would disappear by the time the matches start. Excitement was still building up with each step taken closer towards town. The elation was close to causing palpitations to his heart as nervous energy started gathering inside him._

_Reaching Falkreath once again, he passed by the guard he thinks gave him that warning. He wasn't entirely sure since they all looked the same though with their full faced helmets. As Arturius approached the mud pits, there was already a crowd forming, cheering and shouting with both encouragement and disdain. Two older boys brawling it out. Arturius studied their moves carefully with eyes unblinking. It was all punches though. No kicks or grappling of the sorts. Just pure bare knuckle boxing._

_Arturius watched as two young Nords squared off. The redheaded one swung with a right hook that connected to the blonde’s face. The hard smack rang in the ears of the spectators. A fierce uppercut was followed up by the attacker but was dodged last second before being countered with hard sock to the stomach. Instantly doubling over with the wind knocked out of him, the redhead held up two fingers for the sign of surrender. The young one with the black eye raised his hands in the air as the rest of the crowd hailed the victor. Bets were exchanged as well as glares._

“ _Who is next?” the referee of the matches shouted, encouraging people to step forth. Arturius was averse to do so, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. However, someone shoved him forward into the pit, making him stumble in the center of the primitive arena. The applause and merriment quickly turned to hushed whispers of animosity. This was not the first time he was greeted in such fashion. Ever since the fight the week prior where everyone bet against the elf but managed to win with a one hit knock out. It was money he still has not seen. Arturius still hoped for some form of acceptance, wanting to fit in with all aspects except his race. Regardless he still managed to put a smile on his face. To hide the awkwardness of what was going on inside him, he took off his shirt to show off the physical prowess._

“ _Get the grey skin outta here!” one of the fans yelled. Shouts of agreement followed after before someone stepped in the ring, grinning evilly at the elf._

“ _I can take on the slant eared freak,” he proclaimed. Although he was older, enough to grow something more than dark peach fuzz on his neck and face, the young man was barely up to Arturius’ nose._

_The arbitrator gave signal to prepare the two fighters. Cries for grey blood erupted from the circle around the two young men and the fair referee. Before the second the match started, Arturius felt a cabbage hit the back of his head. He foolishly turned about to see the offender. The distraction opened up a moment of attack. A fist met with the elf’s eye, instantly causing stars to explode around. Before his opponent could stack advantage further, Arturius charged like a raging bull. With a heavy tackle, the elf elevated the Nord into the air before slamming him down on his back. The Dunmer ignored the crowds boos and disapproval. Arturius then scurried around to wrest the boy’s arm to obtain leverage against his joint. He started to hyperextend the joint caught in the arm bar, making his opponent scream for mercy._

“ _Do you give up?!” The large elf shouted, making his voice heard over the crowd. “Say it and mercy shall be granted!”_

“ _Yes! By Talos, let go!” With those words, Arturius released the wrist from his grasp and rolled over on his feet. He watched the defeated human cradle his arm as if it were a child fresh from womb. The loser of the match threw daggers from his eyes as a few gathered around the Nord in support while everyone else scoffed and jeered at the winner._

“ _The grey skin didn’t even throw a single punch!”_

“ _He shouldn’t have won!”_

“ _Get a new ref!”_

_All the surrounding commotion was just fuel to Arturius’ pride. He circled around and pointed a finger at everyone. “Which one of you is next?” he boasted with eagerness and conceit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a parting of the crowd, letting through his next challenger._

“ _You’re not going to win this one, Arty.” the voice of the Jarl’s Nephew stated with certainty. “That is, if you know what’s good for you.” A snake grin formed on his face to give heed to such threat._

_Arturius stood like a stone statue, flexing his frame in barbaric fashion in attempt to ward of any confidence Siddgeir may have had. The response was food thrown at him from the spectators with threats of violence if he won. Arturius paid no mind even when the referee whispered caution, saying to take a dive. Before the official could give signal, Siddgeir scooped up a pile of dirt and tossed it the elf’s face. Arturius took a step back, covering his face with one hand and blindly swung with the other in hopes of a lucky hit connecting. The Jarl’s nephew was amused at the struggle Arturius was putting up and threw a solid punch into his kidney. Arturius clutched his side at the immense pain and took to his knee. Only able to open one eye clearly, he saw the incoming fist cutting through the air towards his face. Doing his best to move with the blow, it took a glancing hit that barely scraped skin._

_Siddgeir lost balance and stumbled forward with the force of his punch. Arturius grasped to take lead and jumped on the Nord’s back to wrap a massive arm around his throat. Siddgeir dug his fingers to try and release the Dunmer’s grip that was crushing his larynx gently. The Nord dropped to his knees, trying hard to force the elf off him. Arturius planted his feet firmly onto the ground, his arms constricted hard and could feel the strength fade from Siddgeir. When his arms finally went limp, the elf let go and let the ragdoll fall to the ground. Siddgeir fell face first into the mud. The referee shook his head as he declared Arturius the winner._

_As Arturius raised his hands up as victor, his head suddenly was jerked forward with sharp pain. He reached around with his hand and wetness greeted him. Blood soaked his fingers as another rock was thrown at him which struck his chest. The mob closed in on him while Arturius was dazed by the hard hit on his skull. They swarmed over like a grasshopper on an anthill. He felt kicks and stomps all over his body and tried to stop the endless assault by curling in the fetal position. Someone wearing steel cuffs took a swing of his leg that broke Arturius’ arm and a few ribs in one movement. He scream in pain and begged for the relentlessness to cease through a blood soaked mouth. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was a boot hovering over his face, only to see it come crashing down before his eyes._

_When he awoke from the black out, the smell of smoke and ash brought him out of the comforting abyss in his mind. Confused and furious over the last thoughts of the fight, he found it difficult to breathe. The sharp pain in his chest due to the broken ribs ensured to that. As he opened to eyes, all he could see is the fire in front of him. A structure turned inferno as animals ran rampant. He recognized the horse instantly as it galloped away. Arturius’ face was hot; not from the flames but from the tears running down his cheeks. A scream from inside the collapsing home pierced the ears of everyone. Arturius reached out in vain with his damaged arm while his good one held not the broken ribs but for the broken heart underneath. His eyes closed shut to try and block out everything but the smell and screams would forever haunt him._

Arturius sniffed sharply at the end of his tale. His fists were balled tight as the fresh memories flooded through his mind. Serana's pale hands reached out and held his gently. Her eyes watered at the tragic story and wiped them away gently.

“Gods...All over a bet?”

Arturius nodded as he relaxed the tension in his hands, allowing color to return. “A few years ago, that same ass becomes Jarl of Falkreath,” he growled with spite.

Serana's jaw dropped at the news of that. “So he gets away with all that and becomes leader? I would have killed him when I found out about that.”

“Oh, trust me...The thought crossed my mind plenty of times. Still, cold blooded murder isn't how I do things.”

Serana shook her head at the notion. “I would have started with him and then that hag at the orphanage.”

Arturius bit his lip as he remembered what Brynjolf said about her. “Nova already killed her actually,” Arturius confessed.

Serana's affections died at the mention of her name. “Least she did something good for you.”

Arturius sat back on the comfortable bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Not really. It was a paid contract for her. It had no relation towards me.” He put his hand up to caress Serana's cheek, causing her to rest her head on his chest. “It's all over for her now though. No one ever escapes the mines of Markarth.”

* * *

 


	29. Odd Jobs

Cold and dirty water splashed on Nova, jolting her awake. Everything was blurry for a moment until her eyes started to regain focus. The throbbing ache in her head made her remember what happened however long ago.

“Stand up, scum,” a rough female voice said.

Nova tried to rub the filthy liquid from her face but her hands were bound behind her back. She glanced up to see an orc looming over her in heavy armor. The wound in her leg prevented her from standing so the warden snapped her fingers and Nova felt herself being lifted up by a pair of men to get her to stand.

“I am Warden Urzoga gra-Shugurz. Welcome to Cidhna Mine. Unlike most prisons where you can sleep the days away and get fed, you have to work for your keep.” Urzoga pulled out a heavy and worn pick axe and tossed it at the Nord's feet. “You mine silver and you'll keeping mining until you throw up silver bars. You got it?”

When Nova didn't answer, she was met with a heavy punch to the stomach, making her fall down once again. The orc ordered the heavy gate to be opened and once it did, the warden grabbed Nova by the hair and dragged her into the cavern.

Urzoga took the chains off the new prisoner's wrists and started to walk away. “Don't have too much fun,” she snorted.

The first thing Nova noticed was the attire she was in. The dark leather corset was replaced with a rough spun burlap that irritated her skin already. The assassin tried once again to stand but agony ravished her leg. “Fucking mangy mutt.”

She crawled towards the ledge she was on that overlooked a large area of the mine. A large bonfire illuminated the cavern walls that were riddled with holes for the tunnels. An orc with white paint on his face shaped like a skull looked to be guarding one of the tunnels like a dog. She also noticed a dirty and pale man resting near the primitive campfire. Nova started scooting down the stairs when the slumbering prisoner woke up to see the new one.

“What are you in for, new blood?” he asked through a yawn.

“Killing someone who asked too many questions,” she snapped back as she tried to lean up against the rocky wall for balance.

“Oh, a violent one?” the prisoner mocked. “Best watch that attitude as others would take that as a challenge and you don't look to be in the best of the shape.”

“I can take care of myself,” Nova said coldly as she tore off a strip of fabric from her leg to bandage the wound in her leg.

The Breton prisoner stood up and walked over to Nova. She realized the pick axe was still up on the ledge and looked around for any type of weapon. The only thing she could find was a jagged rock that she held like her Razor.

The dusty prisoner held up his hands in surrender. “I guess you don't want me to heal that wound you have then.”

“Why should you?”

“Because we have a quota of silver to meet and it just went up with your arrival. If you're injured, you can't mine effectively. If we do not meet the quota then guess who will get blamed and probably get shanked in her sleep?”

Nova furrowed her brow and stared hard before dropping the shard on the ground. “Fine then,” she groaned.

The man knelt down to inspect the puncture and shook his head. “An arrow wound is no fun. They normally just rip it out which tears up the muscle.”

“Can you heal it or not?” Nova said with irritation and impatience.

“Are you always this rude to people who try and help?”

“Quit acting like you are concerned for me. 'It's for the quota' as you previously mentioned.”

“Which in turn, is good for everyone. Now shut up and let me concentrate,” he barked.

Nova folded her arms and kept quiet as the man did his best to suture the wound. The new blood closed her eyes as the magic wove the hole in her leg and mystically closed the wound the best he could. Although there was less pain than before, she still had to limp with each step she took.

“Thanks,” Nova grumbled without sincerity but figured the gesture would mean something.

“My name is Uraccen. Figured we might as well get to know each other though I doubt you will be here as long as me.”

“And what makes you think that?” Nova questioned with interest.

“Anyone affiliated with the Forsworn are thrown in here till the day they die. I think I've been here for five or so years. Hard to keep track of the days when you don't seen the sun,” Uraccen confessed.

“So where is...Maganarch or whatever his name is?”

“Madanach?” he corrected. “If you are asking about him then I guess you will be in here as long as me then.”

“I highly doubt that,” Nova promised with determination.

Uraccen started to laugh as he returned to the bonfire. “Good luck with that, Nord. No one has ever escaped Cidhna Mine.”

“So I need to talk to Madanach,” Nova repeated.

“No one talks him, sadly. You have to get past Borkul the Beast and you do not want to even so much as talk to Borkul the Beast.”

“I take it he is that big, ugly orc over there?”

“Might want to say it a little louder. I don't think he heard you,” Uraccen advised subliminally. When Nova started to stagger towards Borkul, the Breton shook his head. “Your funeral.”

The massive Orc with a skull painted on his face was even bigger than Arturius which did give Nova a sense of unease. Borkul stood with folded arms as he glared at the approaching prisoner. “Keep moving, fresh meat,” he snarled.

“I have business with Madanach.”

Borkul stared for a moment with impeding silence before speaking up. “And?”

“And...I wish to speak with him?” Nova flat out stated.

“And I wish for a nice juicy steak, a harem of women to service my every need, and to get the hell out of this place. Gee...It's almost as if wishing doesn't do shit in this place.” The orc closed the distance between him and Nova to where she could smell his foul breath. “Fuck off, Nord”

The silver haired Nord knew she had no chance of winning without her weapons along with the crippling injury for added measure. She took her leave and hobbled over to where the laughing Uraccen was relaxing.

“Told ya, snowback” he bragged smugly.

“And what the hell is it you people have against Nords?”

“How do you not know about your kinsmen that killed off the natives of this land and took it for their own? We lived peacefully until your lot showed up and butchered us all. Suddenly, we're the evil conspirators.”

“And that has nothing to do with me. Go kill those who were actually involved instead of going after me,” Nova fired back as she warmed herself up.

“As a warning, you best sleep with one eye open.”

“Is that a threat?” Nova growled.

Uraccen shrugged slightly as he rolled his back towards the flames. “More of advice. You're new here and word spreads around fast. I really don't care who or what you are but others will. That's all.”

“I would assume that a pickaxe to their face would discourage anything.”

“That sounds like a plan. No one ever sees a giant pickaxe in one's hand and lifted up then swung at their face.”

Nova wasn't sure who she wanted to smack more: herself for being oblivious about the weight and size of the pickaxe or his sarcastic response to everything. “I assume there is an alternative then?”

Uraccen pulled out a thin piece of metal twice the length of a nail on a wooden handle. “Find a shiv or make one yourself. They'll never see it coming despite everyone having one.” He pocketed it back under his shirt once more.

Before Nova could ask where to find one, a large gong echoed throughout the mine. “The hell was that?”

“Time to go to work, new blood.”

Not wanting to make enemies her first day, she limped her way back up towards where the gate was where she was tossed in and grabbed the weighty pickaxe. The old and worn wooden shaft gave her a splinter immediately so she carried it by the metal part instead. She used it as a primitive crutch to lean on as she hobbled to the nearest tunnel. Torches lit the way down the snaking and pebble filled burrow. The sharp rocks dug into her feet with each step, making Nova curse Arturius with each step.

The chinking sound of metal hitting stone rang her ears. She knew it would cause a headache soon enough. When she walked behind the digger, he quickly turned around and rested the tool on his shoulder. “Don't go reaching for a shiv or we'll both regret it. Understood?”

Nova kept limping past without rebuttal and found a glimmering vein of silver in the rock. She kept to herself and started hitting the rock as hard as she could. When she heard snickering from her 'partner', she shot him a dirty look. “Something funny?”

“Since you're new here, I'll give you a bit of free advice. Treat it like a marathon and pace yourself. Otherwise, you might as well dig yourself a grave instead.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Nova said as she mined at a pace similar to his.

“Gotta name?” the thin man grunted between swings.

“Nova.”

“Nova, eh? Interesting name for a snowback. I'm Grisvar the Unlucky.”

The Nord let the slur slide for now as she focused on passing the time with swinging her pick into the stone, pretending she was hitting Arturius in the face. “Must be unlucky if you are here,” Nova joked.

“Getting caught stealing three times will do that. Jarl decided I was too much of a problem and threw me in with the Forsworn. Now, I am here for life.”

The thick and humid air stuck to Nova's skin. She wiped the sweat off her brow and pulled her soaked hair back to get it out of her face. “Where's the water at?”

Grisvar pointed out to the entrance of the tunnel. “Going to have to ask the orc. He controls the water.”

“Fucking great,” Nova muttered as she started making her way out of the mineshaft. She panted heavily as she made it to the large, open area and approached the intimidating orc once again.

“I thought I told you to fuck off, snowback.”

“I need water,” Nova demanded.

“Oh? You need water? Why didn't you say so?” The orc undid his pants, pulled out his member and started urinating at Nova's feet. “Is that enough for you?” Borkul snorted.

Before he could put away his genitals, Nova kicked hard with her good leg and crushed his most sensitive parts between his pelvic bone and her shin. The 'Beast' let out a whimper before dropping to his knees. He curled up in the fetal position and let loose a pile of vomit.

“Glad we had this talk,” Nova smirked as she stepped on him instead of over him for added insult. She approached the trough and was pleased despite it being murky. She drank the sour water with heavy gulps as she forced it down the best she could. When she got her fill, she looked behind her to see the fallen orc has disappeared. Taking precautionary measures, Nova gripped the pickaxe tightly instead of using it as a crutch.

As she took one step out of the passageway, Nova quickly ducked to avoid the mining tool from being buried in her skull. The pointed end got stuck in the wall and Borkul struggled to get it out. Nova took her pick and uppercut the brute with the side instead of driving the edge through the bottom of his jaw and into his brain. He was out cold before he hit the ground.

“Fucking savage,” she hissed before kicking him in the crotch again. A loud clapping echoed behind Nova, making her turn around to see who it was. A pale and shaggy, blonde haired man emerged from the shadows.

“Well, well...Look at you. Your kinsmen have turned you into an animal only to be caged up and left to go mad. Impressive work though. No one's ever been able to beat Borkul the Beast before. Last person I would expect would be a wench like you.”

“He was in my way,” Nova said coldly.

The shaggy man let out a bellow of heavy laughter. “I like your spunk kid. What's your name?”

“Nova. You?”

“I am the King in Rags, better known as Madanach.” he introduced.

Nova smiled at the first thing that went right today. “Madanach, eh? I have business with you.”

Madanach shifted his weight into a more defensive stance. “And what sort of business would that be? Be warned though...You do anything stupid and your death won't be swift. Is that understood?”

Nova tossed her makeshift crutch to the side as a sign of good faith. “It's funny you mention that...You know Thomer Silver-Blood?”

“He is the reason we are all here in the first place. What? You seeking revenge on that shit kicking snowback?”

“He hired me to kill you actually.”

Madanach's eyes widened but didn't show fear. Instead, he folded his arms and smirked. “So what are you waiting for?”

“I never said I was going to. I disagreed with his plan and walked away from it. He didn't like that very much and sicced his guards on me. So now I am here on conspiracy against a ranking official and something about the Forsworn.”

“You seem like the person who can take care of herself but why hire you?”

Nova smiled as she brushed her sweat drenched hair back. “Because I am the leader of The Dark Brotherhood.”

“Thonar had to hire the likes of you to get to me?” the slave king asked before breaking out into a fit of laughter. “Color me impressed.”

“Most people cower in fear at the mere mention of my organization. Either you don't believe me or you are working on a plan involving me.”

Madanach leaned over the trough of water and splashed some on his face. “With the way you handled the Beast; twice I might add, I think I would rather have you as my guard now.”

“Your guard? Don't make me laugh.”

The shaggy man wiped off the excess water from his face and shrugged. “If you want to go back to mining silver, be my guest.”

Nova pondered the thought as she tapped her fingernail on her teeth. “What about the quota?”

“You took Borkul's place so guess who gets yours?” he quizzed with a grin on his face.

“And you would trust a snowback to take that position?”

“Bah!” he grunted with a wave of dismissal. “Not all Nords are bad and not all Forsworn are trustworthy.”

“So there is someone here you don't trust. Without trust, then there is no need for that person, correct?”

Madanach nodded his head as he let loose another bellow of laughter. “You just keep on impressing me. I like that.”

“Well...Normally, the Dark Brotherhood doesn't work this way but considering my circumstances, I can make a few exceptions. Who and where?”

“There is this rat thief I want taken care of,” the King in Rags started to say. “The bastard wa-”

“Who...And where?” Nova repeated herself. “I care not about what he did.”

“My, my, you sure get straight to the point, don't you?” he remarked at the irritated Nord. “Anyway, his name is Grisvar the Unlucky. He i-”

“I know who he is,” Nova interrupted as she limped back towards the unconscious orc. She felt around and removed a shiv he had tucked away under his arm before returning to the tunnel she first started mining in. The familiar rhythm of metal hitting stone echoed its song through the mineshaft.

As Nova walked closer, the svelte man took notice. “Going to be hard to get work done without a pickaxe. Or did that orc take it from you? I am sure there is a spare on-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Nova buried the primitive dirge deep inside the target's skull. It ended up breaking off but did the job as needed. For a macabre prize as proof of the kill, she dug her nails into his eye and pulled out the squishy orb. After she severed the optic nerve, she casually strolled back to Madanach and tossed the gift at him.

He caught it instinctively and dropped it the moment he saw it looking back at him. “Gods, woman. You sure are a brutal cunt, ain't you?”

Her face twitched at the insult but again, kept her tongue from lashing out in anger. “Figure you wanted proof.”

Madanach kicked some dust and dirt over the bloody gift. “Ruthless, cunning, strong...You're going to fit in here quite well.”

The orc behind Nova stirred about as he groaned heavily. He clutched his jaw which seemed to be in more pain than his manly bits. When he noticed Nova once again, he stood up and stomped over to the woman. Before another altercation could break out, Madanach stepped between them.

“Hold on there, Borkul. Do you want to lose for the third time? She might end up killing you this time.”

“It was dirty cheap shots!” he yelled as he hammered the wall with his fist, causing some dust to fall from the ceiling.

“What? You were expecting a fair fight? You're lucky she didn't have any intention of killing me because if she did, I would be dead by now.”

“I can kill her right now!” he challenged as he foamed at the mouth with slobber.

“What you are going to do is dig,” the slave king commanded as he pointed to the pick Nova used to knock the oaf out.

“You can't be serious...A wench like her, guarding you?”

“Go and check on Grisvar for me then you will know why.”

The orc glared at Nova before stomping off in a fit. “Goddamn snowback,” he uttered.

“Looks like I won't be getting much sleep tonight,” Nova groaned as she sat down next to the water trough to take the weight off her bad leg.

Madanach shook his head. “Nah. We Forsworn look out for each other. Grisvar was never one. He was just a thief that got caught too many times and was delusional, thinking himself as one of us.”

“And I am not one of you either,” Nova proclaimed. “So is that going to be my fate as well?”

“Are you going to rat us out to the guards and pass notes to that Silver-Blood slike?”

“I am going to kill that bastard when I get out,” the assassin growled.

“And what makes you think you are getting out of here?”

“The Dark Brotherhood will see to that. Two of my agents know where I am at and once they inform the rest of the family, they will come in full force if need be,” Nova assured confidently.

“And what about this contract on me? Doesn't that go against your code?”

“Gods, you ask a lot of questions,” Nova sighed as she scooped out more of the stagnant water and slurped it down. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already.”

The ragged leader of the Forsworn wasn't sure of how to take that as she didn't deny it exactly. “That's not reassuring. May not want to do it now but you might change your mind later.”

Nova hit the pen of water, making it slosh around before standing up to face the King in Rags. “Listen here, you prick. I have no loyalty towards you but that doesn't mean I am going to backstab you either. I have no intention of following through with what the Silver-Blood fuck wants. However, if you keep pissing me off like you have been with your constant nagging and third degree, I will kill you just because you're annoying me. Understood?”

“You forget who I a-”

“I don't give two shits who you _were._ I've killed more important figures than you. The cousin of the Emperor, his leading commander that was suppose to guard the Emperor, that same commander's son, and then the Emperor himself,” Nova listed off. She then got dangerously close to Madanach who clutched the shiv behind his back nervously. “Now, you want me as your guard and that is fine. I just want to survive the next few days. If we help each other, we will both get the fuck out of here and free everyone in this mine. Understand?”

The King in Rags was dumbfounded and took a step back. “You're serious about getting out of here? All of us?”

“I am,” she promised. “Now please...Just go do whatever it is you do and I will sit here and....guard.”

The Beast showed back up after missing the heated argument. He looked at Nova before bowing his head. The orc picked up the mining tool without saying anything and sauntered off back to mine. Madanach started chuckling once again. “Never seen Borkul scared before.”

Nova shrugged as she leaned up against the entrance of the tunnel. “So who I am protecting you from exactly?”

“Not all of us here are Forsworn. Some just get thrown in here for their crimes like Grisvar. However, he was also spying for Silver-Blood and slipping notes to the guards.”

“Normally I don't ask this but why would he hire the Dark Brotherhood to kill you?” Nova inquired as she kept her gaze attentive towards the random assortment of people walking around that were carrying ore.

Madanach sighed heavily before starting his tale. “Years and years ago, there was a bloody conflict between the natives of the Reach and the Nords. We finally drove them out but retribution was swift. I was captured, tried, and sentenced to death. The execution never came though. Thonar Silver-Blood stopped it. He wanted the Forsworn at his call, that I would point their rage at his enemies and spare his allies.” Madanach shook his head and spat on the ground. “And I have...Despite the humiliation, I knew he would let his guard down eventually; that he would come to trust I was under control.”

“So that attack outside in the market?”

“Was another message that even in chains, I still have power,” he said proudly.

“Another, huh? Guess I can see why he wants you dead. Still, Makes little sense as he could just get a few guards down here and do it. Would be cheaper than sending the likes of me.”

“Last time he tried, he sent a bunch of guards down here to take care of me. Didn't work out in their favor.”

“Well, lucky for you, you won't have to deal with this for very much longer.”

“I'll hold you to your word for now,” Madanach said gruffly. “How much faith do you have with these people that they will come?”

“Even if some didn't like me, they know the Dark Brotherhood would shrivel up without me there. If it's by loyalty or greed, they will come. I swear my life on it.”

Madanach was moved by her unwavering faith and his face wrinkled even more when he smiled. “You remind me of myself long ago.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don't get too soft on me. This is just an arrangement that benefits us both. Once we get out of here, we go our separate ways and never see each other again.”

“Even if I were you hire you?”

Before Nova could reply, the warden opened up the gate and started shouting. “The white haired female! Front and center!”

Nova turned to look at Madanach. “The fuck does she want?”

“Don't know but you better not keep her waiting. She gets grumpy if you do,” he suggested.

Nova rolled her eyes as she limped towards the incline and up the balcony where Urzoga stood in her heavy plated armor. “You have a visitor,” she growled.

“And?” Nova asked in an estranged manner.

“So move your ass!” she yelled in Nova's face, causing spittle to shower on her.

The Nord gave a death glare and was ready to punch the orc in the face but kept her temperament. She followed the warden toward the open gate where Thonar Silver-Blood was waiting. “So...Have you done what I asked of you?” he said said smugly.

Nova kept silent as she grit her teeth, grinding them heavily.

“I said...Have you done what I asked?” Thonar repeated with a more stern voice.

Again, the assassin in rags answered with silence. Thonar's face started to get red as he grabbed the new prisoner and threw her against the wall. A sharp rock scraped the side of her head, causing some blood to soak into her white hair. Nova finally snapped as she crashed her forehead into the man's nose, breaking it instantly. She then swiftly kicked his ankle, causing him to fall hard on the ground. Nova started hitting him, throwing wild punches with reckless fury. Before she could land anymore, the warden took her mace and put the handle on her throat, pulling off the furious Nord with a choke hold. The orc leaned back to lift Nova off her feet, making her gag desperately. She kept elbowing Urzoga's metal covered sides as a last resort.

Almost at the edge of blacking out, the warden released her grip, making the prisoner fall down to her knees. Nova coughed violently as she tried to bring air into her lungs. Thonar was already up and kicked Nova heavily in her stomach, making her without breath once again. His face was smeared with blood as he grabbed her by the hair.

“You fucking bitch! You could have gotten out if you had done what you were told! Now you will never leave! You hear me!? Never!” Nova weakly smiled despite the labored breathing. Thonar back handed her for her insolence before storming off. “Throw her back in!” he ordered.

Instead of letting Nova get up on her own, the warden grabbed her by the hair and dragged her instead. The prisoner held on tightly as she felt like she was about to be scalped. Still, she never screamed or cried out the whole time. When Urzoga finally released her grip, Nova was back inside the Cidhna Mines. After waiting a moment to catch her breath, she dusted herself off before returning to her position as Madanach's sentry.

“The hell happened to you?” the King in Rags asked upon seeing the bruises on her face and neck.

“I broke that Silver-Blood bastard's nose,” Nova chuckled softly due to her throat hurting.

“You're just a walking disaster, aren't you?” Madanach said as he raised a glowing hand up to Nova's face. She snatched his wrist instinctively and started squeezing. “Easy there. Just a little bit of healing magic to help those bruises.”

Nova held on for a moment before letting go. “I don't need it,” she stubbornly replied.

The slave king ignored the comment and rested his healing hand on her cheek and then to her neck. She moaned softly from the soothing warmth coursed through her skin, easing away the pain. Madanach withdrew his palm and patted Nova on the shoulder. “You know...Even though you're a Nord, you would have made a hell of a Forsworn.”

Nova coughed slightly and was relieved she didn't feel the tinge of pain in her throat. “Maybe in another life.”

 


	30. No Good Deed...

Ysolda fell hard onto the ground as Khayla shook her head with disappointment. “You are distracted,” the khajiit lectured.

“I'm fine,” the student said obdurately as she wiped the dirt off her face.

The red haired Nord got up and charged again. Khayla twisted the attacker's arm, halting any further advance. “What is angering you so that causes distraction?”

Ysolda gritted her teeth as she swung her leg to catch her instructor off balance but didn't go as planned when Khayla sidestepped out of the way. She spun around and smacked her tail across Ysolda's face.

“That's not fair! I don't have a tail!” Ysolda complained.

“And you could have blocked it if you had paid attention. Now tell me, what is distracting you so?”

Ysolda lowered her eyes as she clenched her teeth. “Nova and I got into a fight and she left.”

Khayla's whiskers twitched slightly. “For good?”

“I don't know...She said she would be back in a few days but I said not to bother.” Ysolda's voice started to break slightly. The news about the butchering of the Thieves Guild spread throughout Riften like a wildfire. Some were elated, others shocked. Ysolda has been avoiding the chaos that's been running rampant in the Hold.

Khayla rested a paw on her student's shoulder for comfort. “You cannot change what already has been done. All you can do is wait. So focus on the lessons for now.”

Ysolda's face was pained with regret and remorse but kept her focus the best she could. She raised her fists up once again to copy the attack pattern that Khayla has been pounding into her the last couple days. Although she was improving with each bruise given, the inexperienced fighter still had a long way to go.

When Ysolda landed her first hit across the cat's face, she panicked at hurting her friend and fellow tradesman. Khayla took advantage of the momentary lapse of concentration and countered with a throwing hip toss. “Lost focus means lost life.”

The Nord gasped for air as the Khajiit stood over her with an outstretched paw. She took a few more breaths before accepting the help. “I don't think I am ever going to get the hang of this,” the student groaned.

“You finally landed a punch, no?” the master questioned rhetorically with disagreement.

“I'm sor-”

“Never apologize for doing what you learn,” she said sharply. “Now, again!”

Ysolda nodded before throwing a flurry of swings and punches that Khayla easily blocked and avoided. The inexperienced student was losing her breath from the wasted movements and Khayla took notice. She caught the human's fist and held up a hand to cease training.

“Time for a break,” she instructed.

Ysolda collapsed on the ground and stared up at the afternoon sky. The cool breeze did its best to evaporate the beads of sweat that accumulated on her face and neck. When she sat up, a crudely carved goblet was offered to her. Ysolda gave thanks before gulping down the refreshing water. Soft footsteps pattered behind the Nord and when she turned around, Ri'saad stood there.

“Ah, how goes training?”

Ysolda shook her head as she set the cup down on the ground. “Tough. Didn't expect it to be this hard.”

“Harden your spirit and your body will persevere. From what Ri'saad has seen, Ysolda has it easier. Try the warm desert sands of Elsweyr.”

“From what you have told me, that sounds like a horrible place to live,” Ysolda said, trying not to sound insulting.

“Compared to the cold and snow?” the leader of the caravan asked.

“With all that fur, you would think staying warm would be easy.”

Ri'saad shook his head. “Not all fur is the same. Khajiit fur keeps the heat away in the desert. Doesn't keep heat in when snow falls.”

“Not that I am complaining but why come here in Skyrim where the weather doesn't suit you and you're not allowed to step foot inside the cities?”

“There are many wondrous things that have happened since traveling here. Ysolda being one of them,” Ri'saad complimented without any concupiscence.

“Oh, stop,” Ysolda said, her face turning the same shade as her hair. “People just don't understand you and I hope that I can change their minds.”

“Bah! That is not Ysolda's burden but Ri'saad's ears are happy to hear such kindness.” The khajiit hugged his human friend tightly. Ysolda giggled as his whiskers tickled her face slightly.

“I have you to thank as well. I wouldn't know what to do without you and the caravan.”

“What about the mate of Ysolda? She not provide you with what you need as well?”

Ysolda folded her an arm across her stomach and scratched her shoulder with the other. “We...are having troubles. She did something that hurt.”

“Nova hit you?!” he hissed, making his fur stand up in anger.

“No, no, no!” Ysolda said, trying to calm him down. “She just...I don't want to talk about what she did.”

“Seeing the pain in one's eyes hurts Ri'saad as well. Hope that forgiveness can be sought out so the pain doesn't consume Ysolda.”

“That's the thing, Ri'saad,” she said with a heavy heart. “I am not sure if I can.”

* * *

Serana was slumbering peacefully against Arturius' warm body. The elf stared up at the ceiling as the flickering shadows caused from the candles danced about. His mind was restless, pacing back and forth about Nova and how she killed Grelod the Kind. Even though murdering someone was an act of evil that he despised, it still made him have some regret over injuring her and getting the assassin thrown into the most dangerous prison throughout Skyrim.

When Serana rolled over and freed the trapped arm she was resting on, Arturius slicked out of the warm bed without causing disruption. A pitcher of water stood on the nightstand and he drank it down, consuming the entire jug. He threw on basic clothing and went outside for some fresh air. The humid mist from the waterfall made the air thick but still felt refreshing. Arturius looked around and started making his way towards Cidhna Mine. He could feel his heartbeat with tension the closer he got. When he stopped at the entrance, the captain that praised Arturius recognized him immediately.

“Good afternoon, hero!” the armor clad leader said. “What brings you here?”

“I...umm...wish to speak with that woman,” he requested.

The captain lifted up his face guard and stared at the elf with his pale, green eyes. “The hell you wanna talk to that cunt for? She ain't ever comin’ outta there.”

“So there is nothing to worry about. I just am looking for some answers.”

The captain scratched his rough face that has gone days without shaving. “The last guy that wanted to talk to her ended up with a broken nose. Since you were the one that put her there, I bet your ass she will try and do more to you.”

Arturius chuckled at the idea of a woman half his size challenging him. “I'll be fine,” the Dunmer promised.

The man shrugged his shoulders, making his armor creak. “I'll talk to the warden. Completely up to her.”

Arturius waited patiently as he stared at the waterfall across the way. The sun hasn't crested over the mountains yet so it shined its rays into the mist, causing a rainbow to arch over. Before long, Arturius heard two sets of heavy metal footsteps approaching him. A tall orc woman he assumed to be the warden spoke up.

“That prisoner isn't allowed visitors after she attacked the last one,” Urzoga informed.

“So I've heard. I know the risk involved so you needn't worry about anything...Not that she could do anything against me in the first place,” Arturius boasted as he puffed up his chest slightly.

Urzoga shook her head and scoffed. “Whatever. If you get attacked, you're on your own.”

Arturius followed the warden to the gate where she instructed it to be open. A guard started to work the heavy chain and pulley system which made the heavy gate groan as it opened. The orc instructed Arturius to wait as she marched into the mines, barking out for the white haired Nord she had another visitor. Arturius waited stoically for a few moments when he picked up the sweaty stench of the assassin.

The moment she saw Arturius, she only wished she had a shiv on herself to gouge out his eyes, even if it meant capital punishment. She kept her reserve as she stopped a few feet in front of the grey skin she despised so. “What the fuck do you want?”

Arturius scratched the back of his neck as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I just want to know why after I saved you from certain death, you decide to have one of your associates stalk and attack me the other day.”

“Oh, trust me, mutt. I would not send someone else to do what I desire personally. If you are to die, it will be by my hands,” Nova swore.

“You know,” Arturius said as he exhaled sharply. “If you would have not threatened to kill me in Dawnstar, you would not be in this place now.”

“Don't even start with that shit. You were the one who hunted me first. Then you blind me and then all of a sudden, you want to be praised for saving me when you put me in that dilemma in the first place?” Nova turned around to go back to the labor prison as she held up her middle finger towards Arturius. “Fuck off already.”

“Before you go...I actually wanted to thank you for helping out Honorhall Orphanage.”

Nova paused and looked over her shoulder, glaring at the Dunmer one last time before heading back inside. The heavy gate slammed shut behind the Nord. Arturius walked back to the inn and carefully tried to sneak into the bed. However, Serana was awoken by his heavy weight making the bed sink and creak.

“What were you doing up?” the vampire asked through a yawn.

“I couldn't sleep so I went outside,” Arturius said half truthfully.

Serana could sense some deception and pried deeper. “Is that all?” she tested.

“I...uhh...” Arturius forcefully coughed before finishing his answer. “Went to see Nova.”

Serana promptly sat up and gave a dissatisfied look that made her eyes glow. “Why?”

Arturius reached over and held her hand softly. “I wanted to see why she had that guy after us...I just wanted some answers, is all.”

Serana relaxed a bit as she intermingled her fingers with his. “Normally when a guy goes out to meet with another woman, it's for a different reason.”

Arturius started throwing a fit of laughter, having to catch his breath. “Oh yes...I shot her in the leg to hide my affair with her. You caught me.”

Serana shoved him out of the bed and turned her back towards the jestering oaf. “That's not funny,” she muttered as she clutched the blankets close to her.

“Oh, come on,” Arturius said as he crawled back into the bed. He rested an arm over her and brought his body close to his lover's back. His kisses trailed Serana's neck, teasing her lovingly in the hopes she would forgive him. “I would never betray you in such a manner, love.”

Serana rolled over with a look of worry on her face as she gripped his rough and calloused hand tightly. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he swore, sealing the vow with a kiss that made his heart speed up against her chest. The soft and heavy rhythm of life locked in its fleshy cage made Serana want to ravish her lover. She raked his scarred back with her nails, making Arturius groan with ecstasy. “Easy there. Trying to make me bleed?”

Serana smirked as she licked the tips of her fingers that were stained crimson. “A little,” she salaciously giggled.

Arturius carefully pinned the arms that appeared frail to his massive form and towered over her. A wolfish grin formed that made Serana desire him even more. She rolled him over with unexpected strength and took control as she pinned him down instead. Her fangs gleamed in the flickering candlelight. She leveled her body down with Arturius' as her tongue teased along the nape of his neck. Her fangs pierced through the soft tissue, making Arturius grip the bedsheets tightly.

“Be careful,” he whispered.

Serana hummed insatiably as she lapped her tongue up, drinking her fill of the sweet nectar. The vampire pulled back, her body shivering with gratification. “Oh, gods,” she moaned, running her hands around her curves and bare chest. She looked down to see a pained but happy expression on Arturius.

“Glad you enjoyed that,” the weakened elf stated as he run his fingers along Serana's sides, gently tickling her.

She squirmed slightly before pulling his hands away. Serana brushed away his hair that covered his neck to see the puncture wounds and the pillow now soaked with his blood. “Did I take too much?” she whimpered.

Arturius shook his head as he placed a nitid hand to suture the wound almost instantly. “You had better self control this time around,” he complimented before leaning up to embrace the woman before him. Serana stroked his raven black hair and held his head into her bosom. Arturius said something that was muffled between her breasts.

“What was that?” Serana asked.

Arturius looked up to the simpering vampire whose beauty was unparalleled before anyone else he has crossed paths with. “I love you, Serana,” he whispered gently, pouring his heart into the words.

Serana leaned her head down till their foreheads touched. “As I do with you, Arturius,” she purred.

“I wouldn't have it any other way, my love.”

Arturius lied back down with Serana joining his side. She used the nook of his elbow as a pillow and embraced the heat that poured off from him. She felt fully energized from the lycan's blood and was feeling quite amorous as an aftereffect.

“I need you,” Serana crooned into his pointed ear. “Right now.”

Arturius bit his bottom lip as he propped himself up over her, nervously staring at his sweet succubus. “Normally, you've taken control.”

“Got to learn sometime, big man,” Serana whispered. She grabbed a tuft of his hair and started pulling him down to her stomach. His hot breath was heavy with anxious energy against her skin. Fuming with impatience, she pushed his head down lower, guiding the inexperienced lover to where she wanted. Serana gasped with pleasure as Arturius used his virgin tongue for the first time. Nails raked his shoulders and dug in as she closed her eyes. The climax was building as Serana wrapped her legs tightly around Arturius' torso, pulling him in more. Her hips bucked at the pinnacle as she pulled his head away forcefully.

Arturius was confused as he looked up at her. “Did I do something wrong?”

Serana's legs were convulsing from the aftershock of her release and tried to catch her breath. “Oh, not at all,” she giggled seductively.

The Dunmer licked his lips clean as well as wiping his goatee and stubble. “I've...never done that before. You taste amazing.”

“Mmm...Gods, you know how to wear me out,” Serana complimented as she dragged her lover to her side. Her tongue traced along his shoulders to savor the addicting blood she craved.

“You do that to me as well,” Arturius sighed contently as he wiped off the residue from the corners of her mouth.

“You have no idea how happy you make me, Arturius. I never knew it was possible to feel this way.” Serana buried herself into his arms. The sanctuary the elf offered with just his voice alone made her fall in trust with him.

“I didn't realize I had that much of an impact on you,” the love struck elf replied back.

Serana rested her chin on the elf's muscular chest and sighed blissfully. She twisted his goatee playfully, entangling her fingers in the scruffily hair. “You should see yourself through my eyes and you would understand fully.”

“My eyes are luckier than yours with what they see right now.”

“My heart is luckier regardless,” Serana crooned.

“I don't think either one of us is going to win this argument.”

Arturius felt his heart melt to her touch. Her love and passion she ignited in him was hotter than any flames he could conjure. However, he never burned from it. It kept him warm from the cold and unforgiving world. Serana was a beacon of light in Arturius' eyes. One that he would safeguard with his life if the time came.

It wasn't long before Serana started snoozing gently, using Arturius' chest as a pillow. He tilted his head to glance through the crack in the curtains of the window. A small light poured through the crack from the slightly fading full moons that just started to crest over the mountain peaks. The lunar glare irritated him as he could feel the call of the beast howling inside. Although he was lucky that the last forced transformation saved him, it still was troubling at times to maintain control.

The unrest within Arturius kept stirring, aggravating him severely to the point of having to get out of bed. Although Serana groaned in her sleep, he was thankful she was still slumbering away in her dream. When Arturius opened the door, the fresh night air relaxed him a bit even with the brooding moons hanging in the sky. The freshly lit torches illuminated the stone steps around the town as the restless elf explored the hold built in the mountain face.

When Arturius rounded the corner, a man that was covered in Nova's scent almost barreled over the elf in a hasty manner. “Are you fucking blind, you stupid elf!?”

“I was about to say the same to you,” Arturius growled back at the man with the swollen face and black eyes.

Even though he stood almost a head and a half shorter, the man stood his ground. “I am Thonar Silver-Blood. I own this town and that inn you are staying at. Another word and you can sleep in the Warrens with the rest of the filthy rats.”

Not wanting to risk Serana's well being, Arturius just shrugged and kept walking. Even with the snide remarks Thonar said afterward, the ex-Dawnguard member walked away. Only after he kept himself at a reasonable distance did the elf start stalking the Silver-Blood heir. The smell of Nova gave Arturius suspicions that plucked the strings of his curious nature. Wearing only his basic under armor clothing and barefoot, he was able to sneak quietly. He crouched down to blend in with the shadows. Thonar met with a bald and older man, hidden away in the back alleys away from any public interruption.

“I didn't order the killing of anyone in the market!” Silver-Blood said under a harsh whisper that was drawled from his broken nose. “The Forsworn are drawing too much attention and it has become too much of a burden to handle. You tell your King in Rags to fall in line or his head will fall from his neck. Understood, Nepos?”

“You cage a dog and whip it, only to be angry over him biting back? How are you at all surprised at the outcome? Also, Madanach is not all that happy you hired the Dark Brotherhood against him either.”

Arturius now knew why he reeked of Nova's scent and why she was here in this town of all places. However, despite the answers to unasked questions, the elf lingered in on the conversation some more.

“He is out of control! I saved him from execution and this is the thanks I get?!”

Nepos scoffed at the insult. “Pretty ironic that even in the most daunting prison in Skyrim, you still cannot do anything. How you managed to be the richest person in the Reach is beyond me if you handle affairs in such a manner.”

Thonar grabbed the consultant of the Forsworn and held him over the edge of the the balcony. “Give me one reason why I should not let you fall to your death.”

Despite the harrowing fall that could kill him, Nepos kept his reserve with a smile. “You do and that pretty wife of yours will join me. Betrid, isn't it? And it wouldn't just be her but that seed that has taken root inside her as well.”

Thonar's hand shook with rage and fear before pulling the man back onto solid footing. “We never shared that with anyone! How do you know!?”

The old man dusted himself off and smoothed out the wrinkles in his clothes. “They don't call me Nepos the Nose for nothing,” he said alliteratively.

Before the conversation could develop further, Arturius didn't realize how distracted he was until he felt an edge of the knife against his throat. “No sudden moves,” a woman demanded.

Arturius held his hands up in surrender, not wanting to instigate a fight or risk his throat being slashed. The lady in plain clothing pushed her captive out near the two arguing men, catching Thonar by surprise more so than the elder gentleman.

“Seems we have company. A spy or someone who just happened to walk by at the wrong time?” Nepos pondered.

“He was spying on you two,” the woman answered as she kept her dagger pressed hard against his throat.

“Just fucking kill him already,” Thonar said without hesitation.

Nepos waved a halting hand before she followed through with the order. “I wouldn't be so quick to judgment. He looks the type to be able to haul a lot of silver.”

“Got enough people in the mine,” Thonar said, not wanting to argue anymore.

“And to replace that poor soul whose eye got gouged out and a shiv stuck in his skull by that woman you threw in?”

“Wait,” Arturius interrupted before they could discuss amongst each other the elf's fate. “The only reason why I followed you was because of that woman. That's all.”

“Oh?” Thonar said in surprise as he approached the hostage. He grabbed Arturius by the hair and jerked his head back. “And how would you know I had business with that wench?”

Arturius wanted to say he too was with the Dark Brotherhood but didn't know how to follow up afterward with it. Instead, he decided to let his brawn speak for him. He twisted the hand that held the dagger against his throat and threw the woman towards Nepos. Instead of stopping her, he sidestepped out of the way. Arturius watched in horror as the woman fell over the edge, shrieking the whole way down. A sickening crack of bones shattering followed after the silence of her scream. It didn't take long for a patrol of guards to show up.

Thonar quickly pointed a finger at the elf. “This man just murdered my maid! He said it was for the Forsworn!”

“That's a damned lie! You're the on-”

“I don't care. You're under arrest, grey skin,” the lead patrolman stated without interest towards hearing his side of the story.

Arturius looked around and saw himself surrounded. Completely unarmed to add on top of that. To go werewolf would take too long and leave him vulnerable for attack in the midst of transforming. Swallowing his pride, the elf raised his hands up in surrender. A guard from behind hit Arturius in the back of the leg with his sheathed sword, making the captive drop down on his knees. It took three of them to tackle and restrain the behemoth of an elf but finally put the shackles around his wrists.

“Take him away,” Thonar commanded. “I don't ever want to see his face again.”

“You better hope you never do,” Arturius snarled.

The guards pulled on the chains and dragged the elf away from the noble. Arturius felt a tip of a blade against his back, ready to pierce his heart in case he had any thoughts of escape. When they passed by the inn, Serana was outside. When she noticed her lover in chains, her jaw dropped instantly.

“Arturius!” the vampire shouted as she rushed toward him.

A shield barrier stopped her from getting closer. “Step back or find yourself under arrest too!”

“What happened?! Why are yo-”

“I'll be fine. Don't wo-”

Before Arturius could finish his sentence, his mouth felt the solid hit of a steel gauntlet. “Shut up and keep moving.”

Serana's eyes flashed with rage, ready to kill every single one of them. Arturius shook his head, wordlessly telling her not to do anything. The heartbroken vampire wept as the fire in her eyes were put out by tears of sorrow upon witnessing Arturius being dragged away.

 


	31. Strange Bedfellows

Nova heard the familiar noise of the warden's voice shouting, giving the same speech the orc gave her. Doing her duty as the protector of the King in Rags, she went to the back of Madanach's personal tunnel. She turned the corner to see him scribbling on a piece of worn paper, mumbling to himself.

“Are you expecting anyone?”

“No. Why does it matter?” the slave king asked without looking up from his writing.

“Well, if you don't know who then that means I have to keep my eye out. That's all,” Nova answered before retreating back to her post. The heavy gate collapsed and when the assassin looked up to see who it was, her jaw clenched with ire and the need for revenge.

Arturius took notice of the white haired Nord with his nose before he did with his eyes. As he walked down the poorly built scaffolding, he approached the killer standing at attention. “What are the chances of us having a truce?”

Nova shook her head, feeling affronted by the offer. “That ship long has since sailed, mutt.”

Arturius shrugged as he scratched his rugged goatee. “So what...We're going to wait till the one falls asleep first and kill the other?”

“I've trained myself to only needing a couple hours of sleep a day. Hope you sleep with one eye open.”

Arturius started chuckling, making Nova's face turn red with murderous intentions. “I get a couple of hours every week or so. Seems you don't know much about lycans in that sense, do you?”

Nova didn't flinch except to brush her hair away behind ear. She remembered how Arnbjorn never seemed to sleep either since he was awake at all hours of the day. “It's not me you have to worry about. It's everyone else. Why do you think they're mining silver while I stand here?”

“Not even a day has gone by and you managed to raise yourself up as ruler? Not to mention, I heard about that person you killed.”

“Trample the weak, hurdle the dead,” Nova casually said. “Now, I suggest you start digging befo-”

“Before what?” Arturius challenged. “I already captured you twice, beating you at your own game by attacking from the shadows. What makes you think you stand on even ground in a fair fight against me?”

Before Nova could rebuttal, the shaggy King in Rags approached the two arguing prisoners. “Who the hell are you and why aren't you mining ore?”

“So everyone but you two have to work in this shit hole? Why don't you lead by example instead of ordering everyone else around?”

“When you've spent over twenty years in here instead of twenty seconds, then come talk to me about how shit works around this place.”

“Hmph...Fine,” Arturius grunted before walking away with a pickaxe in hand, not wishing to press his luck any further.

Nova punched the rocky wall, causing her knuckle to split open from a jagged edge. “Fucking mutt!”

“Who the hell was he?”

Nova clenched her hand to staunch the bleeding. Adrenaline from the anger dulled the pain as she wrapped it in her already bloodstained shirt. “He is the one who shot me with that damned arrow! Twice now! I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him.”

“He is even smaller than Borkul,” Madanach jibbed. “You're saying the leader of the Dark Brotherhood can't take on a single elf?”

“If size mattered, I wouldn't be where I am now,” she refuted as she kept her attention at the tunnel that her hated enemy was in. Nova kept silent about his lycanthropy in fear of stirring up a panic.

When Uraccen passed by, a twinkle of the silver ore caught her attention. A plan formulated into her mind, remembering about what the precious metal does to his kind. The assassin abandoned her post for a brief moment to steal a small and jagged piece. Madanach didn't ask what the purpose and instead, retreated back into his private establishment. Nova scraped the ore against the rough surface of the rocky face and collected the dust in the palm of her hand. She threw the crudely polished chunk back into the pile and started sneaking her way into the tunnel that Arturius wandered off in.

The heavy thunder of his pickaxe echoed throughout the walls of the passageway. As Nova drew closer, the hammering ceased only to be replaced by Arturius' voice. “Can't even go a whole night without you attempting to kill me, can you?”

If there was one thing that Nova hated the most about the elf was how no matter how much she tried, it was impossible to catch him off guard. When she approached from the shadows, Arturius stood with his mining tool resting on his shoulder, ready to use it as a weapon if need be.

Nova stood firm with the dust in her clenched hand. “It was bad enough that you threw me in here. Now you are here to finish the job I take it?”

“That was of your own choosing. I hear a commotion in the street about someone getting murdered and before long, I see you and your cohorts running through the streets, one of them burning people down as they escaped. Was that also my fault?”

“I had nothing to do with that woman getting killed. The blood I have on me is from Thonar Silver-Blood after I broke his nose; the fucking prick.”

Arturius couldn't tell by her face alone if she was lying but remembered the swollen face of the man. She was telling the truth. “No wonder he had your scent,” he chuckled as he lowered the pickaxe to his side. The grip was still tight but relaxed enough to not have an imposing presence towards the leader of the Dark Brotherhood.

“And I take it you two made a deal about taking me out? Is that it?” Nova accused with paranoia.

“I could see how you could come to that conclusion but no. He was talking to some guy named Nepos about killing someone and how hiring the Dark Brotherhood didn't pan out. As I was listening in, a woman who, I must say, is better at sneaking than you, caught me off guard. I threw her off me when she had a dagger to my throat and fell off the edge of the cliff. Apparently, they think I am with some rebellion group.”

Nova exhaled sharply from her nose as she clutched the handful of silver dust tightly. “Ironic. So self righteous and yet, you end up in here for life.”

“I don't plan on staying here for long. I doubt you do either. Think maybe we can work something out and find a way out of here?” he offered with sincerity.

“Oh, I think not,” Nova replied with a smirk. She raised her fist to throw the dust into the mutt's face but he reacted quicker, snatching her wrist as his other hand latched onto her throat. The maddened brute held her up against the wall, making her gag.

“Give me one good reason why I should not kill you now!” he snarled through his teeth that started to sharpen up like a wolf's. His eyes were fury incarnate and his grip only tightened, being counter productive to her being able to talk. In a desperate move, Nova was able to procure a shiv and jab it into the elf's forearm but to little affect. Her eyes started to bulged out in fear as she kicked frantically. On the edge of blacking out, Nova's feet suddenly hit the ground as well as the rest of her body. She desperately did her best to fill her lungs with air, coughing heavily.

Arturius tore out the shiv that was dangling in his arm and looked down at assassin, seeing the powder that fell from her hand. “Silver. Nice touch.”

“If you were smart,” Nova started to say between gasps. “You would get it over with.”

“So you want to die? Is that it?”

“I am never going to...stop hunting you down...so long as I live.”

Arturius shrugged as he sat down and leaned his back against one of the ore deposits. “Just so you know, I held up my end of the bargain this whole time. I didn't follow you in Dawnstar nor here either. You're not a vampire nor am I a hunter of them anymore. So why can't we just go our own separate ways?”

Nova's labored breath calmed down as she struggled to get off all fours. “You're the one who started this whole mess.”

“And we had a deal afterward. Nothing that happened before that matters.” Arturius sighed heavily before punching the wall with the bottom of his fist. “Gods, Nova. I don't want to kill you. I really don't.”

“I wouldn't be doing the same if I was in your position.”

“Yeah...Yeah, I know. Not really the point though.”

Both of the arch rivals sat in awkward silence except for crackling emanating from the torch. They both were unmoving from their relaxed position as Nova lost the will to fight and Arturius had no desire to kill.

“So what now?” Arturius asked.

“I don't care. I am just so tired of us crossing paths like this over and goddamn over,” the exasperated assassin stated. “Can't seem to kill you and for some stupid reason, you're not willing to kill me despite having plenty of chances to do so.”

Arturius scoffed amusingly. “Is it so hard to understand that I am not like you? I don't go and slaughter people just because I have the power to do so.”

“Yet, you seemed to have no issues with killing vampires and fellow elves.” Nova realized too late that she slipped up.

Arturius growled as he stood up to tower over the pale Nord. “Fucking knew it. You were the one who sent that guy after us!”

“He had specific orders not to attack you!” Nova dauntlessly fired back. “I wanted to know what you were up to and why the hell you are with that vampire.”

“That's none of your business, Nova! And I swear to the Divines, you do anything to Serana, I will kill you in ways that make your worst methods look like child's play.” Arturius' voice sounded more wolf than elf with that vow.

Nova didn't feel threatened. She smiled as she flipped her sweaty hair from her face. “Someone's in love.”

“And?” the Dunmer questioned as his voice tempered down. “You would do the same with Ysolda.” Nova's face twitched slightly, just enough for Arturius to notice. “Did something happen wi-”

“Shut up,” the assassin commanded as she balled up her fist. “We're not discussing that.”

“Fine,” Arturius shrugged. “So...Is that truce still out of the question?”

Nova rubbed her sore throat as she pondered the question. “Not going to blind me again, are you?”

“I had no idea that would happen. I really didn't.”

“No, but that fucking piss skinned cunt you got that sword from sure did.”

“Arazel?” Arturius furrowed his brow in shock. “How do you know her?”

“Who do you think turned me back into a human so I wouldn't be blind, you stupid mutt?” Nova snapped sharply.

“That still doesn't explain how she ties in with all this.”

“Oh, like you don't know about Merada or whatever that Daedra's name is.”

“Meridia,” Arturius corrected. “So wait...You're saying that the elf who gave me the sword that blinded you knew it would happen and then turn you human?”

“I don't fucking get it either. When I interrogated her, she said that the Daedra needed my help.”

Arturius scratched his goatee as he paced back and forth. “I know that Meridia hates all forms of undead. So why in the hell would she have a necromancer help a vampire? It doesn't make any sense.”

“I really don't care at this point. The bitch refused to tell me.”

“Is she...”

“I didn't kill her. Just broke a few fingers. Still never answered as to why she planned this whole thing out.”

Arturius' eyes widened with disbelief over how cruel this woman could be. He looked down at his arm and rubbed the scar that he will forever be branded with. “You always inflict pain on those you ask questions?”

“With the exception of her, I always get the answers I need that way,” Nova crooned with pride as she stood up and dusted herself off. “Anyway, I grow tired of all this chatter.”

“Before you go...Are we going to stop this bullshit between us?”

Nova took pause as she looked over her shoulder. She sucked her teeth as her fingers drummed on her leg, taking a moment to answer. “I...I suppose so.”

Arturius rolled his eyes at the response. “Doesn't sound reassuring.”

“Not really my problem,” she said in an estranged manner before leaving the tunnel. The heavy thundering of the pickaxe rang throughout the mines once again from Arturius wailing into the silver veins. Nova approached the trough of water and scooped a handful to slurp on. When she dried her hands on her scratchy fabric of her pants, she noticed Madanach marching over.

“You end up killing that elf you hate so much?”

Nova shook her head to wordlessly answer as she leaned down next to the container of water. “I'm fucking tired.”

“There is something I need to ask you before you sleep. Do you know when your clan is showing up to bust you out of here?”

“Can't give you specifics but shouldn't be more than a few days.”

“And is this break out exclusively for you or for everyone?” the slave king pressed further.

Nova closed her pale blue eyes but continued to answer his queries. “Well, they are doing it to get me out. If you want to join in the escape, go for it. I don't give a shit what you do once that happens.”

“You know...I am almost starting to like you,” the ragged and unkempt leader said.

“And I am starting to hate you less.”

* * *

Serana stormed out of the inn, almost breaking the doors of the hinges. She ignored the innkeeper's shouting and marched on towards Cidhna Mine where a pair of guards stood at attention. Before they could command her to halt, she grabbed each one by the throat and threw them against the wall, knocking them out instantly. The clash of steel against the stone alerted Urzoga who charged out of her post, wielding both mace and shield. When the warden saw just a lone woman before her, she wasn't sure what to think.

“Let Arturius go!” Serana demanded, her eyes brazen with fury.

The orc looked down at the two unconscious guards and snarled with bloodlust. “You're sorely mistaken if you think you can get past me.”

As Urzoga charged at Serana, she raised her mace up, ready to paint the stone with the intruder's blood. Serana stood calmly and right as the weapon came crashing down, the vampire snatched the orc's wrist and twisted it sharply. The bone snapped in several places but still held onto the mace.

Serana grabbed hold of Urzoga's piggish face and started to form ice crystals on her cheek. “You don't let Arturius out, your whole head will be encased in ice and then I will shatter it.”

“You can threaten me all you want,” Urzoga spat back in defiance. “No one ever escapes Cid-”

The warden only let out a gasp as her vocal cords iced over and her eyes turned to glass. Her face was frozen still but her knees buckled out from under herself. The frostbitten head shattered as promised, sending shards of crystallized blood sliding across the ground. Serana walked by the headless corpse, kicking aside the chunks of solidified flesh. The heavy iron door obstructed her way until she gripped the iron bars and tore it off. When it collapsed, the loud crash drew the attention of everyone in the mine. Serana stared at the small gathering of men and the silver haired woman she recognized instantly.

Madanach leaned over to Nova and whispered in her ear. “Is this your doing?”

“Nope. Seems the grey skin's girlfriend is here to rescue him,” she answered back.

Serana jumped from the scaffolding, launching herself several feet in the air and landed in front of Nova. She didn't flinch or bat an eye as Serana glared at her. “Where is he?”

“Don't worry your pretty little face. He's safe,” Nova assured as she pointed a finger over at the tunnel he resided in.

The love sick vampire quickly rushed down the corridor, not caring she left the gate open for the prisoners to escape. As she navigated the winding tunnel, she ran straight into Arturius' chest and felt his thick arms wrap around her.

“How the hell did yo-”

Serana kissed him hard, shutting him up immediately. “We need to get out of here,” she urged as she dragged him from the tunnel.

“W-wait! What's going on?” he stammered, unable to resist her strength as she pulled him out of the tunnel.

In the main area with the bonfire, over a dozen of the prisoner's stood before a rough, shaggy haired man approached the two. “Mind telling us what the hell is going on here?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Serana answered daringly. “It's called a jailbreak.”

“And all these years, working on a tunnel to the outside proved to be useless by a lady who just tore down an iron gate like it was paper,” Madanach said with a shaking head.

“And you're complaining?” Borkul grunted as he headed up towards the ramp. “This is our chance to show these slave drivers the fury of the Forsworn!” he cheered on as a rallying cry. Madanach smirked as everyone but him, Nova, and the two strangers cheered on vehemently. All of them charged out with blood lust in their voice, starting a riot in the streets.

“Are we going to let them have all the fun?” Madanach asked the three newest fugitives.

“You know where my gear would be stashed?” Nova requested.

“Yeah. I have a guy on the outside named Nepos wh-”

“Nepos?!” Arturius growled as he picked up the King in Rags by the collar of his poorly made shirt. “He is the reason I am in here!”

“Is he now?” Madanach questioned. “Sure it wasn't Thonar Silver-Blood?”

Arturius uttered a guttural snarl before letting go of the unkempt man. “I will have words with that bastard.”

“Can't do anything if we sit on our asses just talking,” Nova stated as she walked up the rickety scaffolding with Madanach following suit behind his bodyguard.

Serana looked up at Arturius' face which was still blushed from the the silver dust hanging out in the air. “I am shocked one of you didn't kill the other this whole time.”

“Oh, we almost did,” the Dunmer said as he scratched the back of his neck in nervous fashion.

Serana grunted disapprovingly at Nova still being alive but said nothing else on the subject. “We should get your stuff and get the hell out of here before the whole city erupts in chaos.”

When the two lovers stepped foot outside the mines, it was already too late. Citizens were screaming in panic, several kiosks were set ablaze, and around a dozen guards were bleeding or dead already. Arturius sniffed the air to lock in on Nova's scent and assumed she went after the Silver-Blood noble.

Not wanting to miss out on retribution, Arturius looked at Serana amidst the pandemonium and kissed her forehead. “I have some business with the bastard who threw me in there.”

“Seriously?” Serana asked. “We should be getting out of here before the whole town implodes.”

“It won't be long. I promise,” he said before rushing off towards the treasury house that won't be running the city for much longer.

When Arturius approached the steps, the door was already broken down and the stink of blood and ash invaded his sensitive nose. A crimson pool greeted him as well as the sound of anguishing cries for mercy from a familiar voice. The Dunmer walked into the room to see Thonar kneeling before Madanach and Nova, blubbering about having enough money to pay them whatever they wanted. They both laughed at the notion and Nova raised a kitchen knife up, ready to strike down the corrupt official.

“Wait!” Arturius shouted, making Nova roll her eyes.

“Seriously? You want to save this piece of shit after what he did to you? I am not having it.”

“No,” he said as he approached the sniveling noble. Arturius clenched his fist tightly before slamming it hard into Thonar's already swollen face, shattering his nose once again with his jaw to join in kind. He dusted his hands off in a boastful gesture before taking his leave. “There...That's all I wanted. Do what you will.”

Nova was confused and handed the dagger over to the now fugitive King in Rags. “You earned it more,” she said before she caught up to Arturius. “This is going to bother me so I need answers.”

Arturius halted for a bit and turned around to face the Nord that has caused him so much grief in the last few weeks. However, both of their attentions were captured by a loud scream and the thud of a dead body splashing in a collective mix of blood and urine.

“What is it?” the Dunmer asked soon afterward.

“How is it that you can let someone like him die after just being sent to the mines when I've done so much worse to you...Yet, you save me for certain death. Even after I throw silver in your face and stab you, you don't follow through. Tell me why.”

“Serana has asked me the same thing,” he answered as he folded his arms across his chest. “Besides, I have little interest in killing.”

“And those high elves you slaughtered?” Nova pried further.

“They would have lived if they had left us alone. I gave them fair warning.”

“I see...” Nova put it all together now. The way that he mentioned the two of them showed a bond that would elicit a violent response if the vampire was threatened. Just to attack him alone wasn't enough as evidence of Nova being alive proved. But why he saved her in that snowstorm was still beyond comprehension.

“Anything else?” Arturius asked.

“Although I appreciate the break out in the mines, it was still you who sent me there. I am not sure how I feel about that, considering my leg still hurts.”

“And you tried to kill me after I saved you from freezing to death which was my fault for blinding you – Yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah. I get it. It's an endless circle and I don't feel like arguing with you over this again.” The elf clasped his hands together, making them glow with soft light. “Turn around.”

“What? No!”

“Then don't complain about your leg unless you want me to do something about it then, Nova.”

Although the Forsworn knew some sense of magic, she remembered the potency of Arturius' healing when they first crossed blades. Her stubborn pride wanted to tell him to fuck off but the pain becoming more bothersome.

“Fine,” Nova sighed with vacillation as she turned on her heel.

Arturius squatted down and pressed his nitid hands onto her calf. The energy soaked deep into her skin, fixing the damaged tissue that laid underneath. Nova flinched slightly from her muscles seizing up and had to lean against the wall for balance. When her calf finally relaxed, the pain subsided and she was able to stand normally without shifting her weight to the other leg.

“There, all finished,” Arturius said before taking his leave.

“What are you playing at, mutt?” Nova demanded before he walked out the doors.

“First off; you're welcome. Secondly; I have a name. You do remember it, right?”

“That's not answering my question, _Arturius_ ,” Nova strained to say.

The elf shrugged which angered the Nord even more. “It's my way of saying thanks for killing that croon at the orphanage. That's all.”

“Uh-huh...And why didn't you just kill her yourself then?”

“Because I don't murder.”

Nova waltzed up to the elf, staring hard into his ruby eyes. “Then don't thank someone for doing what you are against.”

Arturius shifted his jaw from side to side, grinding his teeth softly before subtly agreeing. “Take care,” he said , holding out his hand to shake.

Nova glared with disgust but went with it and shook his thick and rough hand. Without another word, she walked back to where Madanach was who was admiring the dead body of the leader who brought so much misery to his people. He spat on the corpse for good measure. When the Forsworn leader looked at Nova, he gave a nod of appreciation. “Although we only known each other for but a day, you are quite an interesting person, Nova.”

“Right...You know where my gear is?” she asked, not wanting to waste anymore time.

Madanach brought his fingers to his mouth and let loose a shrilled whistle that brought an older man running. “Yes, my King?” he said formally.

“Know where this gal's stuff is, Nepos?”

“But of course. Right this way, miss,” Nepos replied as he walked into back room where Nova and Thonar first tried to conduct business together before everything fell apart. The elder man opened up the secret door that the Silver-Blood noble used to escape before. As Nova walked in, she was amazed by the amount of treasure that was stowed away. Although not as impressive as what the former Thieves Guild had, there was more than her weight in gold.

In the corner, she found the pile of black leather folded and neatly stacked along with her favored knife and acquired bow. She tore off the roughspun fabric of her prison garb, making Nepos blush. He excused himself before leaving the room so she could get dressed. Nova felt complete once again. She hitched the dagger on her thigh and secured the bow properly on her back. She threw the cloak on last and secured the drawstrings before heading heading back into the room.

An impressed Madanach whistled as he saw how the Dark Brotherhood looked fully prepared. “You look like you are ready to kill someone.”

“Well, there is that contract that is still out on you that Silver-Blood hired me for,” Nova stated coldly as she looked at her nails then back at the King in Rags.

“You fucking bitch,” Madanach growled as he began to summon up his magic while Nepos drew out a dagger.

“Just too bad he never gave me the money beforehand. Oh well,” Nova said with a smile and started to head out to the streets of Markarth.

Both of the Forsworn agents stood dumbfounded before letting loose a chuckle of laughter that built up to howling. Nepos wiped away the tears from his fit and caught his breath. “I never seen you scared like that before, Sir.”

“You would be too if you saw how she handled Borkul the Beast. Beat his ass twice and made him scamper off with his tail between his legs.”

“She sounds most dangerous,” the elder said with a hint of worry.

“Who knows, she might be useful in the future.”

Nova left Markarth is a hurry and started running out in the rock and grass filled land. The moons shone down and lit the path enough for Nova to see almost clearly. It was nights like this that didn't make her miss being able to see in the dark. Still, there were times she could use the power and energy like right now when she was breathing heavily. She didn't know how far she had run but when looking back, she could no longer see the burning aura of the town anymore.

Nova licked her dry and cracked lips that was at the mercy of thirst. The assassin kept moving forward until her ears picked up the sound of rushing water in the distance. She staggered towards the creek and collapsed with joy as she dunked her face into the clear stream. The water was cool and refreshing, making her gasp for air once her thirst was quenched. Once that tantalizing feeling was subdued, another one stole its place when she yawned. She never received any sleep when imprisoned. Nova took off her cloak and turned it around to use as a blanket as she rested up against the tree. The rush of waters soothed the exhausted assassin with its tranquil serenade.

 


	32. A Woman Scorned

When Arturius approached the inn, looters were already ravaging the edifice but didn't worry too much. Arturius avoided the broken glass as he tiptoed through the mess until he got to the room he and Serana resided in.

When the doors opened, a small bolt of lightning hit the floor that barely missed his toes. “Oh shit,” Serana apologized as she ran towards Arturius. “I'm sorry. I thought you were one of those rioters.”

“Don't worry about it,” Arturius said calmly as he stroked her pallor cheeks. “Let me get ready and we can get the hell out of here. Sound good?”

“I can't believe I helped tear down an entire Hold just to save you,” the vampire sighed heavily, almost regretting the aftermath. Almost.

“If it means anything, this whole town is corrupt. People were thrown in the mines for life so they would excavate silver the rest of their days. Guards are paid off, officials make more money, and people's lives are ruined,” Arturius explained. He donned the custom made armor to once again become the metal behemoth.

The chaos outside was getting worse and a worried Serana wanted to abandon Markarth before things got too out of control. Arturius secured the chest plate on last but kept his helmet attached to his hip. With the amount of smoke drifting in the air, he needed to rely on his eyes more than he could his nose.

They rushed out into the night, avoiding the plundering groups and dead bodies strewn about. The waning gibbous moons shone through the clear sky as the two adventurers escaped the ransacked city. Arturius was breathing deeply to clean out the ash soaked air he inhaled from inside Markarth with the fresh mountain breeze.

“Where do we go now?” Serana asked as she looked around.

“Continue our search for that bow, right? Beyond the city of stone. Question is,” Arturius asked, spinning around once in a circle with outstretched arms. “Where is beyond?”

“We'll find it,” Serana promised as she lowered the elf's arms down to his side and rested her head against his warm chest plate. She could feel the steady thumps of his heart against her ear and losing herself in the tempting rhythms. Although her thirst was sated, it was more of desire. The blood Serana had made her restless, energetic and salacious. Arturius' blood was like a drug and she craved more. Her fangs crept out in anticipation, making the vampire shudder. 

“Are you okay?” Arturius asked with concern.

“Huh? What?” Serana replied with hazy disorientation as she wiped off the excess drool emanating from the corners of her mouth.

“It's not even high moon yet and you are thirsty again?” Arturius asked in a worried manner.

“It's not that I am thirsty; it's...uh...” she started to say but took pause as she could smell blood from the wound that Arturius forgot about. Her focus was completely captivated by the alluring aroma of the scarlet nectar.

The elf snapped his fingers to break the trance that was bewitching her. “Serana?”

The vampire tore off the metal armlet from Arturius' forearm and latched onto the wound. Arturius shouted with surprisal and tried to yank away but her grip was too strong. Serana kept trying to draw out sustenance when Arturius unsheathed his holy blade. The energy thrummed with pulsating light that finally broke the attachment she had on his arm.

“The hell?!” he yelled with shock, still holding the Dawnbreaker with a trembling hand.

Serana licked her lips clean and shuddered with pleasure, completely ignoring the sword. “Gods, your blood is so addicting,” she purred delightfully.

Arturius was speechless as he stared at the blood dripping from Serana's mouth with revulsion. Not because of what she needs to drink but her reckless and uncaring attitude. He sheathed his sword and healed up the wound instantly.

“The hell was that all about, Serana?” he demanded.

Serana just stared blankly, unable to articulate any words for an answer for a moment. “I...I don't know what came over me. I smelled blood and my thirst just overwhelmed me.”

“You _just_ fed when we were at the inn! How could you need even more?”

“It's not my fault you are so damn irresistible!” Serana defended, reflecting the blame back at Arturius.

“For Divines' sake,” the elf growled, trying his best to keep the beast caged. “I am not going to be your feed sack whenever you damn well please.”

Serana knelt down and grabbed the armlet she tore off and sheepishly handed it back to Arturius. He snatched it angrily and tied it back on, being thankful that the straps weren't ripped. Serana stared quietly at the ground, scratching the back of her hand nervously. “Are yo-”

“I'm fine,” Arturius snapped as he made sure the bracer was secure before marching off eastbound, away from Markarth.

“Wait!” Serana begged as she chased after him.

Arturius swung around with his sword drawn again, pointing the tip inches away from the vampire's face. “You attacked me because of your thirst. You saw me nothing more than as someone to feed off of and I am not having it.” His voice was deathly callous as he kept the blade professionally still. Serana stood, utterly frozen with fear from what the glowing sword could do.

“Arturius, I di-”

“I don't care what you have to say. I am not going to be used like that.” Arturius lowered the Dawnbreaker but kept it in his grip. His ruby eyes were void of all emotion except disappointment. “We're done.”

Serana staggered backward, unable to take the words to her still heart. “Y-y-you can't do this to me,” she strained to say through misty eyes and a breaking voice. “I trusted you, Arturius. I gave myself to you!”

“As did I with you,” he replied back through gritted teeth before turning his back to the sullen vampire. With each step he took, despite the growing distance, her cries grew louder. She let out a howl of pain that would have made banshees envious. Arturius could feel a tear transverse down his scarred check like a river coursing through a canyon.

The hanging moons behind Arturius offered his own shadow as company down the road. He kept walking straight, despite the twisting path and went through the thick forest. A small gathering of deer frolicked away from the heavy sauntering of the dispirited elf. His ears picked up on the sound of a trickling stream and went to wash away the sweat and grime that built up since his brief stay in the mines.

When the small creek became visible, Arturius dropped to his knees and gathered up the clear water and splashed it on his face. He stared at the broken reflection, gazing back at him with anger and resentment. Arturius hit the mirage with his steel glad fist, howling with rage over what happened with Serana. When he heard scurrying from several yards away, Arturius turned his attention and nose to who or what caused it. The all too familiar scent didn't help him relax any. 

“What are you doing here, Nova?” he said aloud.

A few moments of deathly silence hung in the air before the aforementioned assassin emerged from the shadows with her ebony bow gripped tight but at her side. “Why the hell are you always following me?”

“I just came for a drink of water. Why are you here?” he countered.

“I was sitting here resting when all of a sudden, some asshole woke me up with his fucking howling.”

“Apologies,” he said plainly before wiping the water from both the brook and his eyes. “Didn't know you were there.”

“Uh-huh. I am sure you didn't.” Nova holstered her new bow and folded her arms across her chest, staring at the downcast elf. “What the hell were you getting so worked up over? You get into a lover's quarrel or som-”

“Shut up,” Arturius snarled as he stood up on his feet, imposing his presence on the assassin in the hopes she would leave him alone.

It didn't work as Nova pried without showing any sign of weakness, taunting him further. “Seemed to be in love just hours ago. What's the matter, lose interest in fang banging?”

Arturius growled as he stomped forward, making Nova clutch the Razor from her backside in preparation. The elf was close enough for her to feel his hot breath but stopped as he glared at her. It wasn't anger that was brooding from his eyes but sorrow instead.

“How did Ysolda deal with you being a vampire?” Arturius asked dourly, catching the assassin off guard.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Nova chuckled as she released her grip on the dagger, resting her hands on her hips. “You're asking me, the person who has tried to kill you, for relationship advice? Priceless.”

“Forget it,” Arturius said. Annoyed and embarrassed by her response and his behavior, respectively, he stormed past Nova to take leave.

“Humor me,” the Nord said over her shoulder.

Arturius stopped as he hung his head low before turning around to Nova's back. “I...Serana attacked me to get her fill for blood from that wound you gave me in the mines.”

Nova started giggling from what she heard and smirked at the elf. “You shouldn't be near a blood starved vampire. That was as much your fault as it was hers, you stupid mutt.”

“She wasn't. She just fed not even an hour prior and suddenly, she just...she attacked me. I was just wondering if you've done that when you were one of them.”

“Can't believe I am playing confidant for you. Do you really not have anyone else to talk to about this shit? I am sure your hunter buddies would enjoy the irony of it all.”

“I told you already that I am no longer with the Dawnguard after they tried to kill her and me.”

Nova groaned and put her face in her hands as she tried to understand the stupidity of the elf. “So let me get this straight. You took her to the place that you threatened me with and expected them _not_ to try and kill her? What were you hoping for; them to break out the mead and welcome her in their ranks?”

Arturius stood there, unable to respond. His tongue seized with the epiphany of how tremendously asinine and careless his actions were. “I...”

“Not only that,” Nova continued before he could get a word in edgewise, pointing a finger in his face. “But she broke you out of one of the most dangerous prisons in Skyrim. She gets a little thirsty, sucks some of your blood and you throw a fucking fit and abandon her? She's a vampire. That is what they do. If it wasn't for Ysolda, I would take her instead since you don't appreciate anything she has done for you it seems like.”

“What happened with you and Ys-”

“Don't you dare try and make this about me. You wanted my advice so here it is, you dumb mutt. You gave up being with the Dawnguard for her, she busted you out of the mines of Markarth, and you walk away because she saw you bleeding and lost control?” Nova started clapping after he speech and walked closer to Arturius, her hands in front of his face. “You are a real idiot. That's what that I think.”

Arturius coughed nervously as he took the verbal beating. He could win against her in a fight to the death but whipped the lycan as if he were a puppy when it came to a debate like this. “You could be a little nicer when speaking the truth.”

Nova raised a hand and flicked the elf's forehead. “How else am I going to get through that thick skull of yours?”

Arturius stared dumbfounded before scoffing with amusement. “Well...That opens my eyes up a bit. I owe you.”

“Uh-huh. If you want to make it up to me, you can start with leaving me the fuck alone from now on. Sound good?”

“It was never my intention to cross paths with you after what happened with Riften. You know that, right?”

“Doesn't change what occurred, unintentional or not,” Nova replied as she cracked her knuckles that were stiff from the cold night air. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to get some rest before the morning sun approaches.”

Arturius took notice of the frigid temperature and brought his hands close to his mouth for warmth. “You're not staying out here by yourself, are you? Even with all that leather, you could freeze.”

“Do you have a hard on for me or something? The woman that you walked away from is all alone and you are worried about me? Never mind calling you an idiot, you just reached a whole new level of stupidity that makes me wonder if you can manage blinking and talking at the same time.”

“You don't have to be so rude about it,” Arturius said as he started walking off in the direction he came from earlier and waved. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don't get too mushy with me,” Nova said through a yawn before curling up under the tree. She brushed away the stray hairs out from her face before resting her head on her curled up knees.

Arturius rushed quickly through the forest and plains, thankful that the moons offered its guidance. He let his nose do the rest of the work as the newly enlightened elf backtracked to where he once was. The clearing where Serana was last seen didn't show any signs of her except her aroma. He spun in circles, trying to zero in on where she ran off to.

Arturius cupped his hands around his mouth and started shouting out her name in desperation. His pointed ears did not pick up on any response except for the rustling of leaves and grass from the wind. Again, he shouted for Serana but still nothing answered back. When the wind changed directions, her scent caught his attention instantly along with smoke and ash. His first thought was Serana started a campfire but could not figure out why she would build one. The air shifted directions again and the smell was gone but Arturius knew were it was emanating from.

The dead brush and leaves crunched under Arturius' feet as he carefully stalked the forest for any further signs of her. The gentle glow of orange flickered through between the trees, the smell of burnt sap stinging his nose. When Arturius approached the clearing, a smoldering body laid on the ground, panicking the elf. Upon further inspection, it looked to be the husk of a spriggan, a living tree construct that acts like a guardian of nature. Arturius covered his nose and squinted through the smoky haze for Serana, calling out her name once again.

Still, there was no answer. The fire gave a clue as footprints were visible before it started dying off. Once he created enough distance between him and the scorched spriggan, his senses cleared up. When Arturius closed in on her scent, he saw Serana lurching under a dead tree, cradling her injured arm.

“Serana!” he shouted with worry as he rushed over to help. However, a bolt of lightning flew past his head, narrowly missing him. “The hell?! It's me!”

“I know,” the scorned vampire said heartlessly. If the lightning bolt would have hit him, it would be less painful than what she just said.

Arturius approached cautiously, keeping his hands raised in formal surrender. “You're injured.”

“Really? I hadn't noticed,” she spat angrily.

The elf knelt down and rolled up her torn sleeve to inspect the rather shallow scrape along her forearm. Although superficial, Arturius laid his healing hands on the wound despite Serana's protest. The abrasion smoothed out but left a few lines of cicatrices. When Arturius looked up, Serana's eyes were scowling away from him. She yanked her arm back and sat in silence, simmering over what happened earlier.

“Why even bother coming back? We're done, remember?”

The sting of his words echoing back made his fist clench till they were white knuckle tight. “That was wrong of me to say, Serana.”

The vampire scoffed at his attempt at an apology. “When someone says something when angry or drunk, they tend to speak the truth. You can't say sorry for that.”

“My words were chosen poorly when I thought you attacked me,” Arturius explained. “I thought that was all you wanted me for lately.”

“If you think after all this time, that's the only reason I am with you then you are a-”

“An idiot, I know,” he interrupted. “Nova jus-”

“Of course, she's involved,” Serana cut off Arturius in kind. “Just go be with her since you seem to care about her so much!”

“It's you that I want! Can you not understand that!?” the elf shouted in frustration, feeling his face grow hot.

“You end up saving her despite her carving into your arm like a roasted pig, stalks us with her underlings, end up talking to her in the middle of the night and then somehow, wind up joining her not even an hour later? Then you run off to her just now after a stupid fight? Tell me; how I am supposed to understand that, Arturius!?”

“I didn't run off to her! I ran into her while I was getting some water from a stream and she said the same damn thing you are right now. I am being an idiot! Okay? Nova flat out said that we must have feelings for one another if I was willing to leave the Dawnguard and you were willing to break me out of prison. Hell, we even took on a dragon together! Now, we are here, getting ever closer to finding this bow and stopping your father from turning the world into a playground of perpetual darkness. I am not giving up on that or us!”

Serana stood close enough to feel the heated breath coming from the elf's flared nostrils, glaring at him like a misbehaving child. “Then quit pushing me away or the next time is going to be the last time, Arturius,” she threatened with a promise.

The Dunmer didn't respond but understood nonetheless. They traveled in awkwardness in the general direction of the still ravaged and burning Markarth. Serana didn't take a glance as she solemnly made her way down the rough beaten path that rarely anyone took. Arturius could smell the charred buildings and even flesh wafting from the fortified town that no longer bears the title of the safest place against the Forsworn.

“Were are we going?” Arturius asked, not wanting to get lost.

“Somewhere west of this hold,” Serana answered sparingly.

The two walked with uncommon distance with Arturius following behind. The moons were starting to fade behind the clouds, no longer offering its blessing as the shadows became one giant mass instead. Arturius used his light magic to see as to avoid stumbling on the uneven and rocky path.

Serana gave no comment but paused when she heard a disturbance. Lightning started to spark from her hands but the elf protested as he rushed in front of her. “Hold on. It's alright,” Arturius said optimistically.

“Well, if it isn't our long lost Harbinger who left to go kill vampires,” a smooth but stern female voice said from the brush.

Serana saw a homely woman in fur armor but could imagine being more beautiful if she washed the dirt that accumulated on her skin. Her brown, almost light orange hair was messy and even had twigs and leaves woven in without regard.

“What are you doing way out here, Aela?”

“Remember how Skjor was always talking about that mammoth sized bear in Hammerfell? Decided to see if there was any truth in that. Alas, turned out to be just an actual mammoth.”

Serana stood awkwardly as the two caught up in their esoteric tales of hunting when another person emerged as well. A male that rivaled the size of Arturius but had shorter hair on both his head and face. His eyes were sunken in with dark circles from smudged warpaint.

“Arturius, you knife eared bastard! Still fighting the good fight?” he asked warm heartedly despite the insult as he embraced his brethren.

“Just fine, Vilkas,” Arturius grunted as he was squeezed tightly in a show of strength. “So wait...If you are coming from Hammerfell, why are you this far north? Isn't the route back near Falkreath?”

Aela spoke up before Vilkas could answer. “This ice brain thought there was a shortcut through the mountains,” she said before smacking the embarrassed man upside the back of his head. “One of the best hunters but can't find his ass from a hole in the ground half the time.”

Serana coughed hyperbolically, catching the attention of all three of the lycans. “Oh, apologies!” Arturius said. “Let me introduce you to Serana. We've been traveling all over Skyrim to stop this vampire menace.”

The two other lycans gave a puzzled look at their Harbinger before Aela spoke up. “A vampire hunting down other vampires? What's next, you joining the Silverhand?”

“We're not hunting them down,” Serana fired back. “There is this prophecy my father has been trying to fulfill and we are on our way to a ruin that should be the key to stopping him.”

“A ruin? A dwarven one?” Vilkas asked.

Aela crossed her arms in a masculine fashion. “The only ones around here are built on Markarth, if I recall correctly.”

“Hmm...” Arturius grumbled as he shook his head in disagreement. “It's not ruins we are looking for. It's beyond them. In the depths, from what the scroll said.”

“Scroll? What scroll?” Aela asked with piqued interest.

“An Elder Scroll,” Arturius replied back.

“Been hitting the ale again, brother?” Vilkas joked before looking at Serana. “You should see how much this guy can drink. First time he joined the Companions, he chugged half a barrel to himself. Next thing you know, you see this elf dancing naked on the tables!”

Serana rolled her eyes at the anecdote of drunken exploits. “That wasn't the side I saw of him,” she muttered under her breath.

Arturius scratched the back of his neck as Aela took a stand in front her leader, looking disgruntled. “Look, we've been without a leader of sorts since you decided to go on this crusade. That's fine. But we haven't heard from you in months, Arturius. Months! Then we run into you after all this time and you are with this vampire? She even stinks like you.”

“Careful where you tread, Aela,” Arturius growled as he leered over the unwavering woman. The huntress snarled back, baring her teeth as well.

“Cool your blood you two. Full moon has passed and yet, you seem ready to go tooth and claw,” Vilkas said as he stood between the two tense warriors. “Look, there is a network of caves all around this area. Why don't we all find a cozy one and catch up on what's been happening around a fire?”

“Whatever,” Serana groaned as she kept moving forward in the direction the two of them were heading anyway.

“There's a cave we passed by we can find shelter in for the night,” Vilkas suggested, pointing behind him.

Arturius and Aela kept their scowls on each for a moment longer before breaking it off. Aela stood by Vilkas while Arturius joined his mate by her side. When he reached over to hold Serana's hand, she shot him a dirty look and yanked away. “Not now.”

“Okay then,” Arturius sighed heavily as he folded his arms at the rejection. When he heard the whispering mumblings from behind, the elf ignored them but still stood by Serana's side regardless.

“Cave's right here,” Vilkas mentioned. Arturius focused his magic to illuminate the entrance but the darkness seemed endless, swallowing all the light. “Goes pretty far in too.”

“It's fine,” Serana said as she made her way into the bowels of the abyss.

The cavern was narrow, offering little room to move but single file. The way twisted and slithered like a snake until it opened up to a large pit. The trio of lycans and the vampire stood at the edge of the large circle, peering into the void. Serana squinted but even with her night vision, she could not see the bottom.

“So much for finding a place to build a fire,” Vilkas sighed with a shiver.

Aela picked up a stone and toss it down, waiting for several moments before hearing the distant clatter resound upwards. “Few hundred feet by my estimate...Never seen anything go so deep before.”

Arturius glanced around, spotting wide ridges on the walls, big enough to walk on. He stretched his light magic further, much to Serana's annoyance as he circled around to the opposite. “Notice anything interesting?” Arturius asked.

“No...What?” Vilkas questioned absentmindedly.

Arturius kept walking clockwise towards where he was before but several feet from under the three of them. “It spirals downward.”

“All the way?” the dark eyed man inquired.

“I ain't going down there,” Aela stated. “No telling what this place is or how safe it is. Too risky.”

Serana didn't comment as she inspected the depths below. She took a few steps and quickly rushed to the edge, leaping in the air before Aela and Vilkas could say anything. The vampire landed quietly a few ledges down from across Arturius.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” Arturius shouted with worry. “You coul-”

“I am not walking in circles for hours on end to get to the bottom of this place. I'll be back shortly,” she grunted before leaping down several stories.

Arturius protested but felt like he was only talking to an empty void. The darkness enveloped her where his light magic faded. The elf punched the rocky wall at Serana's impulsiveness before backtracking up to where his fellow Companions were.

“So what is going on with you two?” the huntress asked in a condescending manner.

“Something asinine,” Arturius snapped back as he sat down, letting his legs dangle off the ledge.

Aela scoffed and didn't believe it for a second. “We know you too well to accept how truthful that is. You blow things out of proportion when it's the fault of others but downplay to a minimum when it's yours. So I am asking again; what is going on between you two?”

“The hell business is it to you? Gods, not even an hour and you are already jumping down my throat over something that is none of your concern!”

“When Kodlak made you Harbinger after his passing and then you disappear under the guise of stopping this so called 'vampire menace' only to be found in the company of one? Yeah, I do think our so called leader disappearing for months on end is my concern as well as everyone else you seemed to have abandoned. For Divine's sake, you are the first elf in thousands of years to hold such a title and you piss all over it!”

Arturius launched himself up and stared down at Aela for her choice of words. “After everything I have done for the Inner Circle? I've led the charge against the Silverhand after they killed Kodlak!”

“He never would have died if you were there in the first place!” the fierce woman accused.

Arturius talked through clenched teeth, not even moving his jaw as he talked. “You're blaming me for not being there? I was trying to find a cure for Kodlak so he could be human once again! Something he never confided in you with since you belittled those who had second thoughts about being moonborn.”

“It's not some curse or disease that you make it out to be! I am proud of being a hunter for Hircine! I would never turn down such a gift!”

“I never turned it down either! I am still just as much one as you are!” Arturius shouted back in defense.

“Then why in Oblivion did you 'cure' Farkas? Huh? If you are so proud then why did you turn him back?!”

“That was his goddamn choice! He came to me asking if there was a way to reverse being a lycan and I offered it!”

Vilkas stood silent as he reflected back on the news of his brother saying how he was no longer a werewolf. The two of them argued the same way Arturius and Aela were now but kept to himself as to not add fuel to the fire.

“Between Kodlak dying, Skjor trying to take on the Silverhand by himself and getting killed, and now Farkas turning human...” Aela took a deep breath as she tried to stop her voice from cracking. “You realize it's just us who are the only ones left in the Companions that are blessed by Hircine? That's it.”

“Okay...And?” Arturius asked, wondering what point she was making.

“You say you're as much a wolf as me?” Aela challenge, shoving Arturius' shoulder. “Then why are you thinning our ranks?”

“If you want to make someone part of the Inner Circle like us, then go for it!” Arturius fired back, hoping to quell the defiance.

Aela shook her head as she curled her lips over her teeth. “Have fun prancing around with your vampire mate. We're going back to be with our Shield Siblings. Let us know when it's 'convenient' enough for you to join us.” The huntress snapped her fingers to let know Vilkas know she was leaving. Arturius stared unblinking as the warrior woman left the cave. Vilkas saved one last solemn glance at his leader and shrugged his shoulders before joining her, not saying a word in the matter.

Arturius hammered his fists into the ground, leaving cracks then eventually craters into the surface. He shook with rage over the constant rejection and mutiny everywhere he goes. First the Dawnguard, now his Companions that he was supposed to guide under the blessing of the previous Harbinger. Arturius wasn't even sure what angered him more: the truth in what she said or how she said it.

The cold breeze from outside snuck its way into the cave, sending chills down Arturius' spine. He paced back and forth restlessly, both with worry about Serana and to keep himself warm. After dozens of repetitive strides, Serana's scent finally appeared. He looked over into the depths but could not see anything. Suddenly, the vampire flew up and landed silently in front of the startled elf, almost making him fall backwards.

“The hell?” he shouted, trying to get his racing heart back to normal rhythm. “Give a little warning next time.”

“Think I found what we're looking for,” Serana said coldly. “The spiral is too intricate to be made naturally. Not to mention there isn't any water source that could have carved this whole thing out.”

“Think these are the depths beyond the City of Stone that we are looking for?” Arturius questioned.

“I actually didn't get to the bottom. I just waited a few ledges below to see if you were and your friends were talking about.”

“Could have just stuck around instead of hiding,” Arturius suggested.

Serana shook her head. “So you and that woman seem to be at odds with each other. Who was Kodlak?”

Arturius sighed hesitantly, not wanting to revisit the past. “About a year ago, our former Harbinger was looking for a cure for his lycanthropy. Although he didn't speak out about it all that much, it was well known he didn't want to be moonborn anymore. He spent years researching, trying to find lost clues in the hidden truths. When he found the source was from a group of hagraven witches, he sent me to gather their heads. It was upon my return that the Silverhand attacked while we were spread thin.”

“So wait...I thought that Hircine was the one who created the werewolves for his hunts? What does a coven have to do with him?”

Arturius nodded at Serana's question. “He did as well as the hagravens. Where the strength of Hircine lies with the wolf, his intelligence is the trait of the raven. A Harbinger from the previous era made a deal of sorts with the Glenmoril Witches. If he would hunt in the name of Hircine, he and his followers would be granted great power.”

“So why the regret with Kodlak then?”

“Kodlak wanted to die a true Nord. He told me of a dream where the Harbingers who made it to Sovngarde were being turned down and dragged off by wild wolves. Werewolves have a different afterlife; to serve Hircine in the Hunting Grounds. ”

Serana gave a befuddled look at the explanation of events. “But if he was killed while you hunting those witches then it was too late.”

“Not exactly,” Arturius stated. “Even after death, we were able to perform the ritual that cleansed his soul. It was then that I was appointed Harbinger by his true spirit. He thanked me before making his peace in Sovngarde where he belongs.”

“Interesting history you have,” Serana complimented. “Seems that he was wise to appoint you such an honored position.”

“Aela doesn't seem to think so after I left several months ago to join the Dawnguard to deal with the vampire attacks.” Arturius had a tinge of regret in his voice but did his best to not show it.

“And you could not have done that without leaving behind the rest? Why did they not join you with the Dawnguard?”

“Some thought of it more as a military unit than a clan of family. They don't exactly have the best discipline nor do they like taking orders. Can you imagine Isran trying to deal with the likes of Aela? She would punch him in the face if he yelled at her.” Arturius chuckled as the image ran through his thoughts and the ensuing chaos of the rest of the Companions if the commander laid hands on her.

Serana nodded in agreement but wanted to move onto the more important issue at hand. “So...We going to check out what is down below?” she asked, wanting to continue their unofficial duty of stopping her father.

“Lead the way,” Arturius said in expected fashion as he held up a glowing hand.”

“I'll see you down there.” Serana took a few steps back and was ready to jump but Arturius stepped in front of her to before she could.

“Wait!”

The vampire rolled her eyes in annoyance, wanting to either shove him out of the way or down the pit. “What?”

The elf bit his bottom lip as he pulled Serana close to his chest, holding her in a loving embrace. “I'm sorry for earlier,” he stated with serenity.

Serana's fists were clenched tight in anger but freed a heavy sigh as she released the grip from her palms. She didn't flinch or draw away but accepted the heartfelt apology graciously. “You're so damn lucky you're cute. It's hard to stay mad at you sometimes,” Serana said as she rested her palm on the marred cheek.

Arturius took that as accepting his regret and kissed her fiercely to seal the personal pact of forgiveness between them. He could feel her bite his bottom lip playfully, tugging on it as she withdrew. “I am one lucky guy, aren't I?”

“Because no one else will put up with your bullshit?” Serana taunted as she traced the elf's jawline with the tip of her fingernail.

Arturius shivered at the seductive touch, once again biting his lip. “So are you going down there yourself or together?”

Serana gave a wicked smile as she walked backwards towards the ledge. Before Arturius could say anything, she dove into the spiraling pit without fear. The elf rubbed his forehead in disappointment and begrudgingly started to walk around in circles to descend downwards into the pit.

 


	33. Ebb and Flow

The sun's rays interrupted Nova's slumber and cringed at being woken up. Her eyes were heavy with fatigue still but was thankful the cold was kept at bay from the cloak she wore as a blanket. Moisture from her breathe froze the tip of her silver hair that hung in front of her face. It crunched softly as she tucked the hardened strands behind her ear. Nova stretched to waken up her tired and cramped muscles that were huddled up, unmoving the whole night. She stumbled towards the small stream that was bitter cold even to her native blood.

After quenching her thirst, Nova embarked on her way back to the Sanctuary. The sun offered little warmth due to the chilling wind. However, her hunger was overpowering her shivering. The tough and frozen ground offered little signs of tracks, severely disappointing the famished assassin. She marched on aimlessly, keeping her eyes attuned to any movement. However, it was her ears that picked up on something. A disturbance in the brush caught her attention and instinctively shot at it. A rabbit rushed out in panic and without hesitation, another projectile was flying through the air, finding its mark this time.

Nova gathered up some twigs and laid them upright in a cone and used a flint stone to start up a small fire. The roasting hare made her mouth water. Not even caring that only the outside was barely done, Nova gauchely tore into the blue rare meat with desperate fervor. The taste of blood brought back memories of Ysolda and their time together, making her slow down considerably. The assassin grimaced at the last words they traded and remembering the heartache that ensued. She swallowed her emotions down along with the rabbit, finishing it to bare bones soon after. Nova kicked some dirt on the smoldering coals before heading off.

A magpie cried out in the tree above, squawking its morning song. The black and white bird was silenced as an arrow tore through it. Nova shrugged the bow on her back, enjoying the uninterrupted silence once again. The barren path forked into a four way stop, making Nova wonder which way was the correct path. The neglected sign was worn from being exposed to the elements for quite a time. She dusted off the pointers until she found the one most similar to saying Dawnstar.

By the time the sun breached over the mountains fully, Nova approached the long and sturdy Dragon Bridge in the Haafingar region. A place of memories as the Penitus Oculatus outpost was located here. A visit from the past haunted Nova as she remembered being tasked to stalk the commander's son and plant a fake note of mutiny against the Emperor after killing him. It worked out all too well.

She looked down at her garb, seeing that she would be recognized easily by the Penitus Oculatus agents. After judging the distance of the long and winding river, this was the only bridge for several miles that offered a way to the other side without getting wet. Deciding against her better judgment, Nova kept a steady pace towards the village.

Despite the frosty morning air, the small town of Dragon Bridge was lively. Nova shifted in her dark cloak, covering up the Dark Brotherhood insignias as much as possible. As she rushed through with a brisk walk, a guard took notice of her. Her heart skipped a few beats as he walked straight toward her.

“Where's the fire at, lady?” he chuckled through his full faced helmet. “Dragon on your tail or somethin'?”

Nova shook her head and kept pressing on, not wishing to engage in conversation. “Busy day.”

“Safe travels, adventurer,” he told Nova as he went back to his patrol.

She pushed her way through town, ignoring the stares from the farmers and lumberjacks at the dark clothed stranger. Nova felt reprieve once she got to the outskirts of the small village safely until an arrow flew by, narrowly missing her head. Not even bothering to look to see who fired, Nova sprinted off into the woods when she heard horses galloping.

The assassin peaked around the corner to see the very agents who failed to protect the Emperor now pursuing his killer. Severely outnumbered, the pale haired killer knew it would be impossible to take on the group all at once. The new leader of the group shouted at the party to spread out. One of the men got off his horse and started walking in Nova's general direction. She waited like a snake ready to strike at the unsuspecting prey. The agent's throat was slit before he could utter a sound. However, the guard's sword clattered against a rock, ringing an alarm throughout the forest. Nova swore at herself as she moved away, hoping to find another place. Shouting ensued as a multitude of arrows started flying toward her. They were aiming wildly, unsure of their exact target but hoping for a lucky hit.

Hoof beats were starting to grow louder as Nova did her best to sprint away. However, they seemed to be coming from all sides. She stopped dead in her tracks and realized she was surrounded. Sure enough, almost a dozen of the special guards come from all sides with steel drawn.

“Put down your weapons and surrender now!” an overly armored man demanded.

The commander stepped off his horse and approached the black clothed assassin, keeping his sword ready in case she made any advancement. Nova gritted her teeth, knowing there was no cover or escape. She did as told and set the ebony bow on the ground but kept her knife hidden.

“Well, well, well...If it isn't one of the Dark Brotherhood. Didn't believe it at first but when I saw you walking by, I knew exactly who you were.”

“D-d-dark Brotherhood?” Nova tried to stammer. “I am just a bounty hunter. I don't even know who you guys even are!”

“Don't play dumb with me, wench!” the leader bellowed as he drew the edge of his sword against her throat. “No bounty hunter kills someone like that unless they are with the Dark Brotherhood! The way you look, they way you walk; there's no doubt about who you are!”

Nova smirked upon hearing that as his dark brown eyes stared deep into the crystal blue ones. “And here I thought, I got rid of you all.” The assassin launched herself into a controlled frenzy when she pulled out her Razor and barely nicked the throat. She then laid a heavy boot square into his chest and jumped behind him to get away from the group of guards. Nova knew she could not win but the goal was to survive by escaping. It was only a moment later that she realized she lost yet another bow. That moment of distraction caught her off kilter as she felt bolas wrap around her feet, causing her to hit the hard ground. She fruitlessly tried to cut it but the agents were already on top of their target.

A flurry of kicks from their steeled greaves knocked the air out of her lungs. Another hit and she could hear ribs cracking. The commanded watched sadistically at the bloody beat down. One side of Nova's face was swollen, unable to see through that eye. Parts of her white hair was matted and streaked with crimson.

“Take her to Solitude to face justice!”

The once confident killer was curled up in a tight ball, trying her best not to whimper from the pain. She was pulled up to her feet, too dazed to stand up on her own. A cold set of cuffs encumbered her wrists tightly. When Nova spat a glob of blood at the commander, he back handed her hard enough to make the now helpless woman fall into the dirt. One of the agents stuffed a questionable rag into her mouth to prevent such an offense from occurring again.

“Never thought I would see the day I get to avenge my uncle and cousin after what you did. Your suffering will pale in comparison to what you have done, you sick, twisted cunt.”

All Nova could do was scoff through her nose while rolling her eyes. She was met with a heavy blow into her stomach, causing her to double over. She expelled the rag from her mouth as well as a torrent of vomit from the half digested rabbit. The entire regimen laughed at the pathetic display before them.

“You better kill me now or you will regret it later,” Nova swore.

Another kick to her side dropped the assassin to her side, making her gasp for air. “Did I give you permission to talk?” The commander wrest a handful of the blood soaked hair, forcing Nova to look at him. “Killing you right now would be too easy. Not when we can drag you all the way to Solitude and watch your head roll off the block instead.”

One of the recruits hitched a rope to the cuffs and gave it to the commander who tied the end to his horse. Nova still wasn't on her feet when the horse started trotting. The tether yanked her hard, dragging her along the ground as promised. The entire party just laughed but Nova kept her conviction, not uttering a single murmur of affliction.

A horse reared up in panic without warning as the rider fell right next to Nova. An arrow pierced through his skull and his eyes were widened in frozen shock. A holocaust burned all around her, sending the rest of the horses into a panic. The commander shouted orders but started screaming from being lit ablaze. Before Nova could figure out what was happening, she was scooped up by someone and ran off into the distance, away from the carnage that ensued.

“Apologies for not arriving sooner, Listener,” said the familiar and calm voice.

“T-Triunn?” Nova asked weakly.

“Affirmative.” After setting her down near a tree as carefully as possible, Triunn looked down at his leader with a solemn expression. “Your injuries require attention. Unfortunately, I do not possess the knowledge to ameliorate your wounds.”

“I'm fine,” Nova grunted as she coughed up some blood, unsure if it was from her mouth or chest.

“Relax. You're safe now,” he assured as he began to pick the lock on her cuffs.

Nova didn't object as she rested the side of her head that wasn't beaten in on Triunn's chest. “Get captured twice in one day...Shit's embarrassing.”

“So you escaped from Markarth then? Why did you not wait for extraction? You could have redeemed yourself from such infliction,” Triunn advised.

“It's fine. Nothing I can't handle,” she assured with a weak smile.

When the chaos ended, all the guards were slaughtered through fire or steel. The entire family, much to Nova's surprise, approached their broken leader. Babette was dressed almost head to toe to cover up from the sun as Nazir was wiping off the bloody refuse from his scimitar. Cicero was too busy giggling at the massacre of delight and Caius was busy staunching the fires he created with ice to prevent a wildfire. There was another woman but Nova could not remember her name.

“Gods, you look like you went through Oblivion and back,” the vampire child said as she pulled out a vial of dark, red liquid. Nova winced as the alchemist applied the salve on the cuts.

Caius nodded and interjected. “Look worse than me after your punishment.”

Cicero stood awkwardly close to Nova with a pouting face. “Oh, Listener!” the jester shrilled. “Red hair does not suit you!”

Babette pushed back the mad clown. “She needs to recover, you dolt!” The unchild inspected the bruising on Nova's face and gently rubbed in some of the ointment on her cheek in hopes of reducing the swelling. “We should get you back to the sanctuary as soon as possible. The way you are breathing, you have a few ribs broken as well.”

“Perfect,” Nova muttered. She tried to lean off Triunn but the adrenaline wore off, causing her to wince in agony.

Babette applied what was left of the salve onto her chest, being as gentle as possible. “Caius, do you think your magic can help her out?”

The mage shook his head with disappointment. “I've never mended bones before. If I try, I might end up piercing a lung or something.”

“Just let me get some sleep. That's all,” Nova requested. “Also...My bow and Razor. Don't forget those.”

Nazir nodded. “As you wish.”

While the Redguard assassin went to retrieve her treasured weapons, Nova slowly slipped into unconsciousness. Triunn picked her up in his arms as gently as possible as to not disturb her. The family gathered around, in shock of seeing their leader in such a state.

“We are going to draw too much attention with all of us grouped up,” Babette stated. “Two of us go with Nova and the rest split up and meet back in Dawnstar.”

“I can stay with the Listener,” Triunn requested, catching everyone off guard by not being insensate as usual.

“Didn't take you for the sentimental type,” Caius jibbed.

“My reasons are my own.”

The Imperial mage scoffed at the reply. “How the hell are you going to manage that? We just took a two day's journey in half a day with little sleep...I am about ready to collapse.”

“I'll also assist,” the vampire child volunteered. “I'll ride alongside and you keep her from falling off. The rest of you, we'll see you at home.”

They all agreed and split up their own way except for Caius and the woman. Triunn took the horse he rode in on and raised both himself and his leader up on the saddle. He had face toward him, holding her the same way a parent would with a tired child. He looked over at Babette and nodded, letting her know he was ready to go. Triunn tugged at the reigns, being careful to not go too fast. She moaned slightly but her eyes were shut.

“She is going to make it, right?”

Babette nodded as she gave a curious look at the normally estranged assassin. “Caius did raise a valid point. Normally, you are distant. What gives?”

“I fear our destination is outside the limits that we can withstand,” Triunn said, dodging the question. “Morthal would be more beneficial for us to take a break at before continuing onward to our sanctuary.”

“You do look most exhausted. How long have you been awake?”

“Fifty-four hours,” Triunn answered through a yawn. “Give or take.”

“Morthal it is then,” Babette agreed.

* * *

“This looks like an ordinary cave,” Arturius said with disappointment as he kicked a rock down the narrow passage.

Serana felt the same sentiment but kept moving in the hopes they would discover something else.

Arturius halted and sniffed the air. “There's someone here, I think.”

“You think?”

Arturius kept moving in the only direction possible until he heard the sound of rushing water echoing throughout the cavern. When he approached the ledge, white water rapids rushed several yards below. The smell he was closing in on was across the ravine where only a shaky and unkempt flat bridge offered access. The color drained from his face upon seeing what was below.

Serana could hear the heart palpitations from his anxiety and placed a caring hand on his shoulder. “I got this. I'll see what is across that bridge.”

Arturius furrowed his brow, feeling embarrassment over not being able to even cross a bridge. He folded his arms across his chest and gave a dismissive nod. “As you wish.”

Serana took her first step and could hear the geriatric construct creak and moan. Another cautious step made it wobble and without any hand rails, it made it more difficult to transverse. After making it to the other side, Serana inspected the dead body. With it being mummified and decrepit, Serana wondered how the person died. However, nothing gave any clue to that question. The other question was what was the point of a bridge that lead to a dead end? The ledge offered nothing except a place to rest.

“It's just a body!” Serana shouted across the way.

When Arturius replied, it was muffled by the rushing waters below. Rather than bother with a shouting match between each other, Serana strolled across the rickety bridge once again. When she crossed the middle, a plank started to crack from under her feet. Before she could jump the rest of the way, the wood gave way from under her, plummeting to the river below.

“Serana!” Arturius shouted. Without second thought, he jumped into the frigid waters below. He tried to swim up for air but even with all his inhuman strength, the armor was too much a burden. Regrettably, he unshackled the metal plating on his torso along with his shield on his back so he could get his head above water. Once Arturius got his first gulp of air, he tried calling out to Serana but could barely hear even himself over force of the raging river.

Arturius slammed his shoulder into a rock, feeling himself tumble around like a rag doll. The shock of the gelid water made it difficult to determine if his arm was dislocated or not. Before he could think about it, he reached the end of the unforeseen waterfall, causing him to tumble head over feet, crashing into a shallow pool that was only waist deep. Gasping in both shock and pain, the elf crawled out to the edge and collapsed on his back. Surprisingly, he was able to stare at the ceiling instead of pure darkness. A cyan glow illuminated the cave from dozens of mushroom strung about. However, he didn't see Serana.

“Serana?” he called out weakly.

“That was quite a ride,” the vampire groaned from several feet away. “Can't believe you jumped in after me.”

“And I would do it again,” Arturius breathed heavily before straining to sit back up. “Are you okay?”

Serana nodded disparagingly. “Yeah, you?”

“Goddamn cold,” he shivered. “I hate the cold.”

“Your armor,” Serana gasped with guilt.

“Sink or swim,” Arturius sighed grimly. Although he was able to save the gauntlets and greaves, the loss of his armor protecting the more vulnerable parts made him nervous. Even worse, he was without his trusted sword for the first time since he received it. He grunted as he inspected his shoulder. Even though the bone and joint were intact, it felt tender to the touch. After looking over his body to inspect any other injuries, he was thankful none were found.

Serana stalked the cavern with worry when she noticed large cluster of webbing adorning the walls. “Uh...Arturius?” she whispered. “We have a problem.”

“What is – Oh great.”

A large frostbite spider the size of a bear drooled with venom along with its smaller offspring. Their mandibles clicked with frenzied hunger as they all started to close in on the two. Not wanting to risk being bitten, Arturius set his hands ablaze and let out a torrent of fire directly at the arachnids, broiling them instantly.

Serana winced at the horrid screeching, closing her eyes at the extermination. When she opened them, they were nothing but a pile of charred remains. “That's one way to take care of them.”

“ _Brains beats brawn and magic beats might_ ,” Arturius mumbled, his father's words coming from his mouth. That was one of the few and far between moments that he actually agreed with such a saying. Before he could get lost in the nostalgia, a shimmer caught his attention as it dropped from the waterfall. Curious, Arturius waded to the center and smiled at seeing the Dawnbreaker resting at his feet. Before he could reach for it, a heavy clanking hammered from above that was louder than the rushing waters. Arturius quickly moved out of the way of his falling armor and was doubly blessed.

After pulling out the waterlogged armor, Arturius shivered as he wrung out his hair the best he could. Hypothermia was setting in as he could barely keep grip on his equipment. As he squinted through the dark cave, Arturius took notice of some vines snaking their way across the cavern wall. Some were dead and crunchy, perfect kindling for starting a fire. Serana didn't ask as the elf took heaping handfuls of them and placed them in a circle. It took all of his focus to spray out embers but it was enough to start a roaring fire.

Arturius threw his gear near the primitive campfire and collapsed, shivering heavily as his body desperately craved warmth. Serana sat down next to him but felt guilty not being able to do anything to physically help. Instead, all the vampire could do was stroke the dark and dampened hair.

“Are you going to be okay?” Serana asked in a concerned tone.

Arturius answered with a trembling nod and half smile. “If y-y-you could find m-more stuff to burn. That w-w-would be a-appric-cated.”

Serana did as requested and searched the surrounding area. Some thick roots veined their way through the cracks and crevasses. Using her unnatural strength, the vampire tore out formidable lengths of makeshift firewood and dragged it back to the pit full of smoldering coals. Serana tossed the roots in, causing an uproar of brimstone to illuminate the darkened cave and warm the hypothermic elf.

“How are you feeling?” the worried vampire questioned with concern in her voice, stroking Arturius' dampened hair.

The Dunmer shivered, less violently than before thanks to the blazing fire, and grumbled incoherently with gratitude. Serana stared lifelessly into the cracking and dancing flames, her skin tingling from the heat. Silence surrounded the couple except for the water dripping from the ceiling onto the red hot stones, sizzling instantly upon contact.

Between intervals of the hissing steam, a pair of heartbeats drummed in Serana's ears. One belonged to Arturius and hers didn't beat at all. The vampire launched herself up with lightning crackling in her hands.

“Who's there?!” she demanded.

Out of the shadows of the dancing flames emerged an elf more pallor than Serana, with short and spiky hair that matched in tone. Arturius leapt up to Serana's defense despite wearing only a loin cloth. The couple squinted at the stranger, unable to form words with their seized tongues.

Instead, the pale mer broke silence first. “I am Knight-Paladin Gelebor, protector and guardian of the Great Chantry of Auri-El ” he said with a stern but calm voice.

Arturius raised a thick brow, unsure if he heard the name wrong. “You mean, Auriel?”

The elf shrugged. “Auriel, Auri-El, Akatosh...So many different names for the sovereign of the snow elves.”

“You're a Falmer?!” Arturius gasped with shock and awe.

A twitch of angst washed over Gelebor's face at the term. “I prefer snow elf. Those twisted creatures you call Falmer, I call the Betrayed.”

Serana changed the direction of the conversation, wanting answers to more important questions. “I can imagine you know why we are here then.”

“You seek Auri-El's Bow. Why else would you be here?”

Arturius scratched the back of his neck uneasily. “We sort of stumbled down here. Luck seems to be in our favor regardless.”

“Fate works in such ways.”

“I don't believe in fate,” the dark elf shrugged.

“Anyway,” Serana groaned, not wanting to waste more time. “Will you help us get to bow or not?”

Gelebor tilted his head with interest. “Why do you seek such a powerful artifact, especially a vampire such as yourself?”

“To stop a more powerful vampire from acquiring it and using it to cause the end of days as we know it,” Serana answered sincerely.

“And yet, it is safe where it lays. Why disturb it and give chance for it to fall into the wrong hands?”

“Because it's going to happen eventually,” Arturius growled through clenched teeth.

“The bow hasn't been touched for eras. I am afraid your story doesn't warrant for such a reckless action to be taken.”

“Look, we've been traveling for weeks, going so far as going to into Oblivion, looking for answers. We need your help!” Serana pleaded with urgency.

“How much trouble you have getting here is not of my concern. Mine is only to guard the Wayshrines. There is no need for a vampire to take possession of such a holy and powerful instrument of the sun.”

“I am not a vampire,” Arturius fired back. “What's to prevent you from me having it?”

The snow elf scoffed at the question. “A thrall of a vampire is not a better option. Now, I request that you leave.”

The Dunmer stomped over to the much smaller elf, towering over the uncorrupted Falmer. “I am not her slave! We need that bow and once we are done, we will return it.”

“Leave,” Gelebor stated coldly, not intimidated by the dark elf's imposing presence. “Befor-”

“Before what?” Arturius challenged, glaring with fire in his eyes.

The snow elf said nothing as he raised his hands, glowing with mysterious magic flowing through his fingers. A bright light exploded, blinding Arturius and causing Serana to shriek in agony. Arturius covered his face with one hand to stop the fulgent light while swinging with the other. Instead, the hunter felt a hard hit into his gut, causing him to kneel over to try and force air into his lungs.

“As I said...Leave,” the Knight-Paladin ordered.

Serana was crying out in pain, despite Arturius taking the brunt of the holy magic. She looked through squinted eyes and saw her exposed hands charred and disfigured. She felt her face and could hear her skin crunch like dead leaves. Pain singed her every nerve as the vampire sobbed heavily. The salt from her tears caused even more agony, making her cry more. Through the haze, she focused on Arturius who was still doubled over. Suddenly, a familiar howl erupted from the Dunmer's throat.

“Oh no...” Serana gasped.

Arturius shot his hand out and gripped the throat of the snow elf, lifting him up effortlessly. His clenched jaw exposed the teeth that started to form into fangs and his hands turning to claws. The snow elf clutched desperately to release the grip around his neck. His pale skin started to turn a shade of blue before Serana stood in front of the still forming lycan.

“Arturius, stop!” the vampire begged.

Arturius snarled, seeing the blackened shade of what used to be her porcelain skin. The grip tightened even more. “What did he do to you?!”

“Let him go...Now.” The vampire's eyes glowed, exerting her calming will over the dark elf's fury.

The wolfish form started to revert back into his mer self. The raging storm inside Arturius withered down as he released the grip on the choking Gelebor. The blue tone in his face quickly drained back to its ghostly color as he coughed heavily.

The snow elf looked up at the disfigured vampire after he stopped laboring for breath. “Why?” he asked simply.

“Because we are not your enemy,” Serana explained painfully through cracked and burnt lips. “We need the bow to stop a problem far worse than you could imagine. We need your help.”

Gelebor stood up and massaged his sore throat, clearing it with a heavy cough. “I must admit...I never would expect a vampire and whatever he is to want Auri-El's Bow.”

“Werewolf,” she informed.

“I see...I still do not understand why the likes of you two would still want the weapon but considering you could have let your pet ki-”

“He is not my pet,” Serana corrected with a tinge of anger in her voice.

“Could have let your _friend_ kill me, I will hear you out.”

Serana's eyes stopped glowing and broke the spell she had over the drooling Arturius. “The hell?” he asked, rubbing the throbbing headache. He looked at Serana for answers but was caught off guard by her burnt face. “What happened?!”

Serana flinched away from the attempted caressing. “No more fighting. Understand?”

Arturius looked over his shoulder at Gelebor with a scowl. “You ever lay a hand on her again, I don't care if you are the last snow elf...Not even your god will save you from my wrath.”

Serana smiled softly at his protective nature but winced from the pain. Arturius reassured her to trust him as he focused his magical energy. A wave of soothing restoration sorcery washed over the vampire, healing her skin the best it could. Although slight wrinkles of scar tissue were apparent, it was better than before. The hunter exhausted all reserves of magic performing the healing feat and collapsed on his knees.

Serana rushed to his side and stroked his dark and sweaty hair. “You didn't need to push yourself so hard, you big fool.”

“I'm fine,” Arturius grunted, waving off the assistance due to pride. He gathered himself and stood back up uneasily to redirect his focus on the snow elf again. He took in a deep breath to calm himself before speaking up. “We didn't come here to fight you for the bow.”

“As I told the vampire, I will hear you out...for now,” Gelebor replied coldly.

Serana opened up about the story of what happened to her, what made her be a vampire, and her father's plan to rid the planet of the sun. The snow elf stood solemnly as he took in the information, barely making a reaction. Arturius donned his armor in the meantime. After securing the gauntlets last, the metal giant stood by as the two finished striking an unholy alliance.

“Before I lead you to the path of the bow, I will need a favor from the two of you,” Gelebor requested but sounded more like a demand.

“What?” Arturius snapped, making Serana jab her elbow into his hip.

“What type of assistance do you need?” she asked with a forced smile.

The snow elf's face turned grim with foreboding pain. It was the first time he showed true emotion as his voice almost cracked. Serana could hear his heart skip a beat as he spoke. “I need you to kill my brother.”

Arturius was more shocked there was another snow elf than he was with the request itself. “Wait, aren't you the last of your kind, besides the Falm- I mean, the Betrayed?”

Gelebor's neck tensed up when asked that question. “The kinship between us is gone,” he answered with a heavy sigh as if his brother was already dead. “I do not know what has become of Vyrthur, but he is no longer the brother I once knew. The Betrayed did something to him. Why Auri-El would allow this to happen, I do not know,”

“How do you know he is even alive?” Arturius asked callously, causing Serana to jab him in the side again.

“We snow elves always had a bond of sorts. My brother and I were with a group of paladins that always guarded the Great Chantry until the Betrayed swarmed in. I could feel the death of everyone as we tried to stop our corrupted brethren. However, I can still sense Vyrthur. Darkness has taken hold of him, I am afraid. Not sure how or what exactly.”

Although Gelebor stood like a statue, Serana could feel the pain in the snow elf's heart as he told his story. She had never experienced the genocide of her people, she understood how he felt at the loss of trusted family.

“So where is this brother of yours?” Arturius asked, getting straight to the point.

“He is in the Inner Sanctum but I cannot leave the Wayshrines as it is my sacred duty to guard them.”

“Wayshrines?” Serana inquired with curiosity.

Gelebor turned around and started his way back from the path he emerged from. “I'll show you.”

Arturius followed Serana and probably was one of the last snow elves in existence. Down the path, a glow emanated from a shrine in the shape of a sun. Serana grimaced, obviously bothered by the radiating light from the altar of Auriel. Gelebor too notice almost instantly. “The shrine does have a glimpse of power reflecting that of the sun but on a much smaller scale. Can imagine it bothering a creature of the night such as you.”

“But still, you would be giving the bow willingly to a vampire such as her?” Arturius asked with confusion.

“If you sought ill with such a weapon, you would have tried to kill me for it. I sense no such desire in either of you, despite the altercation earlier.” Gelebor raised a glowing hand and then kneeled down to rest it on a semi-buried dome covered in centuries of neglect.

Arturius and Serana gave each other a puzzled look over what the snow elf was doing but said nothing. Then the ground started shaking violently, startling them both as they tried to regain their balance. Arturius stared with bug eyed amazement as the dome started to uplift its submerged structure from the ground. Inside the gazebo stood a full length mirror, dusty and uncared for.

An unimpressed Arturius looked inside and scowled at the snow elf. “So what does this have to do with Vyrthur?”

Gelebor didn't reply with words but instead, touched the silver glass. The reflections started to twist and contort, melting away any semblance of images and instead, became a shifting, black void.

“A portal?!” Serana gasped.

“Indeed. This Wayshrine will take you to the Inner Sanctum. There as promised are both my brother and the bow of which you seek.”

“Sounds easier said than done,” Arturius groaned as he cracked his knuckles.

Serana's curiosity was getting the better of her as she turned towards Gelebor. “What do you know of the bow exactly?”

The pale elf tilted his head slightly at the question but paused before giving an answer. “It's a powerful instrument; a holy artifact that is connected to the sun itself.”

“And with it, Harkon can use your blood to banish all sunlight,” Arturius added with disdain and caution.

“He won't ever get the chance,” Serana pledged. “He will be stopped, one way or another.”

Arturius nodded as he rested his hand on the Dawnbreaker. The sword glowed softly, feeling the vengeance pulsate through its owner's spirit. “Lead the way.”

Serana looked at the portal full of doubt and took a deep breath. She looked back at Arturius and shook her head. “No, we are going together,” the vampire stated as she held Arturius' hand. He smiled coyly, embracing the soft fingers against his metal ones.

“Ready?” Arturius asked nervously as he stared into the void.

“No...” Serana whimpered, unsure of what could welcome them on the other side.

Arturius chuckled but walked towards the shifting reflection of blackness. “Neither am I.”

The dark elf scooped the anxious vampire into his tree trunk arms and rested his head against hers. They sealed a kiss between them before Arturius jumped through the portal, being completely enveloped by the portal's energies. Darkness sucked out any form of light as they disappeared into the void.

 


	34. Sun in Hand

Triunn held onto Nova, crossing his arms to secure both his leader and the reins. The heavy galloping of the horse kept him alert as well as the brash and jagged swaying. Nova didn't make a sound since Babette force fed her some ground nirnroot as a sedative and painkiller. Triunn could tell the horses were starting to become drained through their labored breathing and unsteady pace. When he looked ahead, the town of Morthal was within their sights despite the misty fog from the swamp.

The smell of the fungal pods stirred Nova slightly, waking her up in a panic. She thrashed about, wondering who was kidnapping her. Triunn jerked the straps, causing the terrified horse to screech to a halt.

“You're safe, Listener,” the assassin said softly.

Nova coughed heavily from hyperventilating with broken ribs, causing her to cry out more. Babette rode her horse alongside Triunn's and gave Nova the last of the bitter nirnroot. When the pale Nord declined, Babette insisted. Upon further refusal, Triunn acted against his leader for her benefit and jabbed his finger into Nova's collar bone, causing her to open her mouth to shout at him. At the same time, Babette took her chance and threw in the crushed plant in without regret. Nova tried to spit it out but a heavy hand covered her mouth, forcing her to swallow.

“You _dare_ drug me and lay hands on your Listener?!” Nova scorned, trying to yell but the pains in her chest stopped her from getting too loud.

Babette grabbed Nova by the collar, snarling softly. “You are in no condition to be acting this way. You are hurt rather badly and need to relax. Do you understand?”

“Get your goddamn han-”

Babette nodded to Triunn who silenced the angry assassin by covering her mouth once again. She struggled and resisted the best she could but Triunn's strength greatly outmatched her weakened state. It didn't take long for the nirnroot to take affect, causing Nova to drift back into unconsciousness.

Triunn shook his head as he released the grip from the Listener's mouth and went back to cradling her head. “She is going to be quite enraged upon break from her involuntary slumber.”

“Matters not,” the child vampire stated. “It was what's best for her; even if it's not what she wanted.”

Babette took the reins of her horse and cantered away towards the hold. Triunn quickly followed suit, making sure his leader was secured before making the horse go full speed. It took several minutes of hard running before the horses were at the point of exhaustion but reached their required destination.

Babette hastily got off her appaloosa and feigned her childlike appearance. “Help! My mother fell off her horse and is badly injured!” she cried out with real tears in her eyes.

Triunn carefully dismounted, cradling Nova in his arms as a few villagers rushed to their aid. Babette was sniffling between sobs, trying to sway her innocent demeanor over the townsfolk. A Redguard woman approached first, offering her inn. Triunn graciously accepted as he moved through the crowd to move his fake wife and child toward the lodge.

A male Redguard lead them to a vacant room when he saw the trio without question. “Is she going to be okay?” he asked as Triunn set the bruised and injured Nova down on the bed.

“Affirmitive,” Triunn answered stiffly, making the innkeeper raise an eyebrow at the peculiar tone and choice of words but said nothing of it.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he insisted.

“Thank you so much,” Babette stated with cheery compassion to offset the stoic personality of the other assassin.

When the coast was clear, the child closed the door and tapped her foot with impatience. Triunn took notice instantly and took a formal stance at his superior. “Is there a problem?”

“You need to fit whatever role is required of you so you do not draw attention. Show some anxiety, worry; something so people do not think you are some heartless person,” she groaned with a sigh as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Triunn shrugged his shoulders and turned his focused to the more pressing matter at hand. “Our primary concern is making sure our Listener does not have any grievous injuries. After that, we take her back to the Sanctuary as soon as possible.”

“Are you giving me orders, Triunn?” Babette said in a challenging tone.

“Merely a suggestion,” he replied with his back turned. “It's safest for her there where she can be looked after at all times. Since the murder of the Emperor, everyone has deducted that the Dark Brotherhood yet lives. Some are even able to recognize our Listener. So I surmise that within an allotted time frame that she will be discovered through the public eye. The less exposure she has, the less vexation we have. That's all.”

Babette dropped her folded arms at her sides as she tried to find words through seized tongue. “But...She...” She took a deep breath before trying to find a way to articulate. “You're right about that. However, the more she travels under this condition, the worse it could be for her. Let's just stay the night for now and see how she is feeling come morning. How's that sound?”

The paranoid Triunn was peeking out the window when she asked. His only answer was a slight nod at the compromise. “Dusk is still several hours away. You should rest until then so you can watch over her at night.”

“You've been awake for two and a half days, yet you want to take the first watch?”

“You being awake during the day doesn't help us at night. It's the safer ultimatum,” Triunn assured.

“Fiiiine,” Babette yawned while stretching. She laid down in the other bed and covered her eyes with the pillow. “There's more herbs in my knapsack if she needs some. Nirnroot for pain and sleep, dragon's tongue for fever, and troll fat for any infections. And no alcohol with the nirnroot. Got it?”

“Understood,” Triunn replied with a stoney expression.

The assassin stood by the window, watching patrons move to and from the inn, studying their movements, expressions, and who they conversed to. The owner came in only once only to be told to leave them all be. But when he shut the door too hard, Nova stirred about until she woke up groggily.

“The hell?” she groaned, rubbing her eyes until her vision no longer dazed.

“You're safe, Listener.”

“You drugged me!” Nova threw the covers off and tried to stand out of bed but ended up collapsing. Thankfully, she fell into the arms of her initiate instead. She struggled but the silent protector just sat her on top of the bed and stood formally.

“It was fo-”

“I didn't give you permission to speak, initiate!”

He gave a nod of obedience and kept quiet. Nova held onto her torso from the still broken ribs that caused her labored breathing. After gathering herself once again, she glanced over at Babette who was soundly sleeping still.

“You both disobeyed me,” Nova hissed as she redirected her rage towards Triunn. “That is grounds for punishment.”

“If saving you warrants such action, I would gladly face them.”

Nova's mind flashed back to Arazel saying a similar thing; how they were doing what was best for her despite what it does to them. This only further enraged the assassin leader for not having control over her own life.

“I still didn't give you permission to speak,” she muttered before coughing harshly, gasping through the agony before calming herself.

“Babette said that this would help fo-”

Nova gritted her teeth as she interrupted “Why are you still talking? Do you enjoy disobeying me like this? A weakened leader so you can just piss all over her? Is that it?”

“I speak to assist you. No, I do not enjoy going against your wishes. I have not urinated since before reaching Dragonbridge nor do I have any fetishes based on such activities.”

Nova stood dumbfounded over the how literal he took that expression and shook her head. “If you want to make yourself useful, get me something to drink.”

“Preference?”

“Something heavy. Firebrand or something spiced. I don't care which,” Nova demanded.

Triunn shook his head at the request. “I am unable to give you an-”

“Again with the disobeying,” she snapped. “Do it or I will make sure you are banished from the Dark Brotherhood or worse.”

Triunn looked over at Babette and remembered the stern warning. Still, he stood his ground, not knowing what dangers his leader could face if he fulfilled her wishes. “Babette advised me t-”

“Babette is not your leader! I am! So when I tell you to go get some fucking wine, you do it!”

“I will not assist in what could be your death!” Triunn snapped back, catching Nova off guard with his sudden explosive remark. “She told me not to let you consume any alcohol and I intend to follow through. I will never obey you if that puts you in danger!”

“Gods, you two are loud,” Babette said as she shot up from her sleep, launching the pillow across the room. “What are you two even bickering about?”

“She wants me to go against your medical advice and retrieve some wine.”

The killer child shook her head and approached Nova, making her leader feel nervous. “You can't have any alcohol for a time being. You're lucky Triunn cares more about you than fears you or otherwise, you could be dead.”

Nova scoffed but kept silent afterward. After slinking back into the bed, her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. “Just go fetch me something to drink at least. I don't care. Just fucking get something.”

“Yes, Listener,” Triunn said with a tired bow before going to find a drink to quench her thirst.

“You are awfully hard on him,” the unchild observed. “He really does have your best interest at heart.”

“If he doesn't like it, he can leave.”

“Nova, you're as stubborn as Cicero is when it comes to the Night Mother. Triunn's been nothing but loyal. You should know that loyalty doesn't mean obedience. Understand?”

Not wanting to admit being wrong, Nova just sat mutely while internally fuming, waiting for her drink. Before another conversation could be struck up, the aforementioned assassin entered the room with a pitcher of water and cups for all of them. He poured the two ladies each a drink, getting the silent treatment from Nova and gratitude from Babette.

“Even though dusk has not approached, it would be appreciated if you took watch for the night,” Triunn almost begged, not able to fight the exhaustion anymore.

Babette hopped off the comfortable bed. “Of course. You've been most helpful. Rest up.”

Triunn let a bantam smile escape before collapsing onto the welcoming mattress. It didn't take very long for him to be completely passed out and oblivious to his surroundings. Babette chuckled softly as she stretched to wake herself up.

Nova felt around her tender chest, flinching at the severity of the pain. Although it will take a while to recuperate, she was more worried about what the Night Mother would say for another failure. Between not getting paid for the earlier contract that Arturius interrupted, the death of the whole Thieves Guild, and now, the killing of another contract, it wasn't looking well for the Listening. Even worse, all of them happening in a row. Nova banished such thoughts and just focused on the recovering.

“You look worried,” Babette inquired. “Something on your mind?”

“Nothing to worry about,” she sighed between sips of water. “Just another day.”

“So what happened in Markarth? Triunn and Caius told us about your capture and all that. Were you being transported to Solitude then?”

“No. I broke out and made my way through Dragon Bridge when the damned Penitus Oculatus gave chase. Seems that even though we killed the commander and his son, he still had some family that sought revenge for us still.”

“I don't know why you were wearing your getup around them. You should have known they were going to be out for blood, Nova.”

“Didn't think they would be paying much attention.”

“Someone dressed in all black, with a bow, and white hair. There's only a handful of people with hair like yours. You seriously need to dye it and wear something that doesn't draw attention.”

“I know that already,” Nova grumbled. “It was a shitty situation and the only other ways to cross the river was probably another bridge a dozen miles away or swim. Didn't feel like doing either.”

“You're not one to make such mistakes. You are normally more meticulous but you've been off lately.” Babette took notice of the Listener's change in her heartbeats and interrogated her further. “Something happen in Riften?”

“No,” Nova replied but a twitch of sadness betrayed her stone face demeanor.

The vampire wasn't letting up as she marched over to her leader. “You've never lied to me before so why start now?”

“None of your goddamn business! It's personal!”

“You almost getting killed affects us all. More than it would if anyone else were to die. Do you understand that? That you are the life blood of the Dark Brotherhood? Hundreds of years without a Listener and here you come, blessed by the Night Mother herself and are now leading us.”

“I didn't ask to be the Listener in the first place!” Nova finally admitted for the first time to someone. The shock made them both speechless for a few moments.

“Are...Are you saying you no longer want to be our Listener?”

“I-I-I don't know...It's been such a burden trying to please the Night Mother that any mishaps turn into me feeling disgraced. I screwed up three contracts in a row and before that, it was because of me that the Dark Brotherhood was wiped out.”

“That was Astrid who did such a thing, not you. You cannot carry that burden. Festus, Gabriella, Veezara...None of them would ever blame you for what happened. You did everything right that you could possibly do. Quit thinking it was your fault Astrid betrayed all of us, Nova.”

“But if I never became Listener, everyone would still be alive.”

“If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we would all be happy little children. We deal in death. Sometimes, death deals with us. Half of us died, yes. However, to be blunt, if it was just you that lived, the Dark Brotherhood would have lived. Under Astrid, we were slowly dying. It would have only lasted a few more years before it all came crashing down. However, under your command, we are stronger than before.”

Nova took in the words, awestruck by how much emotion Babette spoke. She's never seen this side of the child before and was taken off guard because of it. “You...You really mean that?”

Babette nodded as she reached over and hugged Nova. “You've been a great leader. I want you to stay that way,” she reassured. “We almost lost you twice now. Pretty soon, your luck is going to run out and we will not be there to save you.”

Nova was stunned at the words of sentiment. She raised her arms up and embraced the undead child, appreciating the kind words. “Thank you, Babette. That means a lot, especially from you.”

“So why don't you tell me what has your focus so split as of late. You've not been the same since you got back from Riften.”

“I...umm...” Nova's thoughts were taken back to when she told Ysolda the news about what happened to the Thieves Guild. She knew Babette wasn't tied to them at all but the rejection hurt more than her current injuries. “The Thieves Guild hired me to take someone out and afterward, there was a problem and...”

Babette stared unblinking, waiting for the conclusion. “And?”

“I...I killed them all,” she admitted.

“The entire guild?” she gasped. “That's a bit extreme, even for you.”

“That's not the issue though. I told Ysolda about it and she was furious about it.”

“I see.”

“Yeah...I gave her a necklace to replace the one she lost right before I told her. Then she threw it at me and said to leave. So I did.” Her ice blue eyes started to haze over with a glassy mist as she tried to keep her emotions in check.

Babette didn't give any expression but just simply nodded. “You've been through a lot these last few weeks. Being blinded, turning back into a human, killing all the thieves in Riften...What's your next big fate changing task?”

“You should see Markarth right now,” Nova chuckled but cringed shortly after. “Besides, there's no fate except what you make.”

“I would not be so sure about that. You becoming the Listener I would think is an act of destiny. If you hadn't have ran into Astrid, you would not have joined us. Then you would not have been who you are now.”

“Yeah,” Nova solemnly agreed. “But I still don't know who I am. All my memories are that of murder and blood. The only clean part of my life was with Ysolda and that went to shit thanks to the other part of my life.”

Babette shrugged with plainness in her response. “A person living two lives goes by two names, two personalities, two sets of emotions. It's hard to keep them separate. Every one of us knew you were seeing someone but married? That's a big secret to keep hidden, especially since she knows about the Dark Brotherhood. She could pose a threat.”

“Don't,” Nova warned. “Don't go there.”

“A lover scorned has loose lips for secrets. You brought her here, she knows of our deeds, identities...”

“Quit filling my mind with such poison!”

“It serves as a warning to be careful. A clash of two worlds can end both is what I am saying. Would you be willing to kill her if she threatens su-”

“You are crossing a line, Babette. Drop it.”

“Your mind is clouded by emotions. Are you our Listener first or does do we come second to Ysolda? You will end up losing us both if you keep this up and I don't want that, Nova. Please...Consider the choices no matter how hard they may be.”

Nova's muscles tensed up as she clutched the blanket, unable to speak coherently. “J-j-just stop,” she stuttered, unable to maintain her strong facade anymore. She wasn't sure what was even more upsetting: what Babette said or how true it might be. Not to mention there were other times she betrayed Ysolda and knew if she found out, everything would come crashing down. Nova wondered if it would be possible to make her wife a target. Would she be able to kill Ysolda on her own or have someone else do it? Nova didn't want to ask nor know the answer to those questions.

Babette rested her hand on Nova's and gave a nod. “Sorry to intrude on your other life. It just worries me because we had so many close calls before.”

“I appreciate the concern but you have nothing to worry about. I just need some rest for the time being is all. We'll leave when we are all rested and ready to go.”

“Triunn might be out for a while though. He's been up for almost three days straight.”

Nova looked over at Triunn who looked almost dead. The bags under his eyes were heavy and dark. She gave unspoken thanks to the man who did so much despite the way he was treated.

“Got any more of that medicine to help me sleep? It's going to be a long night.”

* * *

Arturius and Serana stumbled out of the portal and fell hard onto the stone floor. It was pitch black and the air was frigid to follow. Serana opened her eyes and adjusted them to the dark. They were in a gazebo just like the one the snow elf opened up for them. She looked back and saw the portal wasn't active anymore, making this a one way trip.

“See anything?” Arturius groaned as he felt along the wall to lift himself up.

“It's another Wayshrine from what I gather. Let me check outside and what's there.” The vampire stuck her head out of the entrance and noticed statues made of ice that were frozen in horror.

Arturius took notice of her gasp. “What's wrong?”

“There's what looks to be...a group elves and bugs?”

Arturius' eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “What? elves and bugs? They must be Falmer,” he groaned as he drew his sword. “What are they doing?”

Serana stepped outside of the dome and gave a closer inspection of the intriguing forms. Her fingers ran across the face of one Falmer, seeing the twisted, corrupt expressions up close. It was full of rage and anger, caught in time forever. “They're frozen. How they came to be that way is another question though.”

Arturius gave warning before using his magic to banish the darkness around the two of them. The statues glistened, refracting prisms of light and lit up the rest of the chamber. There were dozens of more figures strewn about. They were all in a circular formation, facing a broken shrine of Auriel.

“That's just creepy,” Arturius commented as he sheathed the Dawnbreaker.

“I concur,” Serana expressed with nervous tension as she made her way across the room.

A large, ornate door stood across from the vampire, standing several feet taller than Arturius. The elf was even more caught off guard by the pattern carved into it. It showed the sun and a bow but it was scorched to the point of almost not being recognizable. Rage was released on the design.

“The sun and the bow...This is it!” Arturius assured. “This is where the bow is at!”

“After all this time, we finally found it,” Serana said before jumping up and wrapping her arms around Arturius' neck. She rested her forehead against his, smiling against his lips as they kissed. “I never could have done this without you.”

“We got this,” Arturius replied softly, brushing Serana's cheek gently.

“As long as I got you.”

Serana stood anxiously behind Arturius as he struggled to force open the door. When he failed to open the ice encrusted entryway, she gave it a shot. The frostbitten hinges cracked under the strain but still it would not budge. They finally did it together and their combined show of force broke through the barrier, opening up the door to a long and ice covered corridor.

Arturius went in first to make sure it was safe. The frost covered floor crunched under his metal boots, echoing down the passageway. Serana was fascinated by the polished walls that gleamed flawlessly like mirrors. It seemed constructed by magical means as she stared back at her reflection. Arturius was several feet ahead due to the distraction and started rushing to catch up to him.

There at the end of the tunnel stood a massive room with ceilings as high as any cathedral as well as more frozen Falmer scattered arbitrarily. However, what caught both of their attention was a throne with a snow elf sitting with a satisfied look on his face. He stood up and clapped, his chuckle turning into maniacal laughter.

“I never thought that this plan would work. After all these millennial, the time has finally came!”

“The hell are you going on about?” Arturius asked, trying to make himself heard over the mad cackling.

“Oh, don't tell me you don't know. There is a reason why my _brother_ sent you here. But I will say, you sealed your fate when you brought the Daughter of Coldharbour here. Right before me!”

Serana looked confused at how he would know such a thing until it hit her. “It...it was you? You created that prophecy that twisted my father?”

“Although I am shocked at him not being here, it's more of a victory with you being here. Cut out the middleman and finish the prophecy myself!”

“I am not going to let that happen!” Arturius growled as he withdrew his sword. “You caused all this and will suffer for your transgressions!”

Vyrthur just smiled as he snapped his fingers. The frozen Falmer started cracking up before shattering their icy prisons. Without much warning, they flew into a frenzy and started to attack the duo. Arturius swung his sword and started hacking at the closest one. It shattered on impact instantly before another one jumped on top of his back. Serana quickly tore the frozen creature off and broke it in half, sending shards flying everywhere. The onslaught continued as they kept fighting the ravenous Falmer. Vyrthur watched over with glee at their attempts to stop his plan from coming to fruition.

Arturius turned his attention to the tunnel, hearing even more come through. “Oh no...”

Serana turned around and was tackled by a flood of Falmer, making Arturius fly into a rage. He dove into the pile and started tearing them off his lover, smashing the twisted ilk into pieces. However, Serana flung off all the Falmer and Arturius as well. She was covered in scrapes and cuts but nothing critical. The vampire launched lightning at all the remaining creatures, turning them into crystallized dust until only Vyrthur was left.

“Enough of this!” he shouted as the tides turned. He started to levitate as an aura of energy gathered around him, causing the whole temple to shake. The icicles from the ceiling started crashing down like a torrent of spears. Arturius was almost hit by one as he dove for cover. Serana stood vigilant as she made her way towards the snow elf. He shouted in a foreign tongue before unleashing his magical energies.

The ice that made up most of the temple was gone, turning it into a balcony. The stars were barely forming in the twilight as the sun just left the horizon. Arturius groaned as Serana helped him up. “Come on. We can't give up now. We're so close.”

“I have no plan on doing so,” the Dunmer grunted as he got back up on his feet. “He is going to pay for all this.”

Serana turned to face the corrupted snow elf. She grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up and over the balcony. “Enough, Vyrthur. Give us the bow!”

“How dare you. I was the Arch-Curate of Auri-El, girl. I had the ears of a god!” he boasted despite being hundreds of feet in the air.

“Until the 'Betrayed' corrupted you. Yes, yes. We've heard this sad story,” Serana dismissed.

“Gelebor and his kind are easily manipulated fools. Look into my eyes, Serana. You tell me what I am.”

Serana didn't realize it at first as both her and Arturius were caught off guard by the revelation. “You're... you're a vampire? But Auriel should have protected you!”

“The moment I was infected by one of my own Initiates, Auri-El turned his back on me,” Vyrthur proclaimed. “I swore I'd have my revenge, no matter what the cost.”

Arturius scoffed at the idea. “You want to take revenge on a god? Good luck with that.”

Vyrthur didn't struggle as he kept his composure. “Auri-El himself may have been beyond my reach, but his influence on our world wasn't. All I needed was the blood of a vampire and his own weapon.”

“You were waiting...all this time for someone with my blood to come along. Well, too bad for you...I intend on keeping it!”

Serana released her grip but Vyrthur caught himself on the edge of the balcony and launched upward to attack Serana.

“Your blood will be mine!” he snarled with animalistic fury.

Arturius threw himself at the snow elf and proceeded to punch him with his heavy metal fists. All the vampire did was laugh as he threw off his assailant with ease. “And you think you can stop the likes of me?”

“You may be a vampire but not a pure one like me!” Serana shouted as she started to form into the creature of pure darkness. Wings tore through the back of her outfit as she transformed. The creature towered over the elf who finally showed fear for the first time. However, he didn't stand helpless and rushed to attack first, launching spears of ice at Serana.

One pierced a wing, making her howl in pain. She launched a counter attack, swiping at the former priest of Auriel. Her claws only landed a few glancing scratches as he dodged the best he could. Vyrthur launched another magical assault, creating a blizzard and hitting the other vampire with its razor sharp wind and ice in the face. Taking advantage of being blinded, the snow elf formed another spear of ice and jumped on top of Serana.

The blade was inches from her face, ready to pierce through her. “I only need your blood. Don't need you alive,” Vyrthur affirmed with victory in his grasp.

As the vampire was ready to bring down the weapon, Serana closed her eyes. Seconds passed by but nothing happened. As she opened up her eyes, a blade was sticking out of Vyrthur's chest.

“I promised that you were going to pay for your transgression,” Arturius snarled. “And I am a mer of my word.”

Arturius twisted the blade for good measure, causing bone to crack and blood gush out like a fountain. Vyrthur gasped as he dropped the spear, narrowly missing Serana's gargoyle like face. He closed his eyes for the last time before the Dawnbreaker started to glow, violently setting the vampire ablaze. Arturius threw the burning body over the edge into the canyon below to be forever at peace.

The Dunmer looked at Serana who was morphing back into her beautiful self. Again, her clothes were tattered completely, leaving her exposed. “Are you okay?”

“Thanks to you,” Serana said sheepishly, holding onto her savior. “I can't believe he was responsible for all this.”

“Not over yet. We still have to get the bow.”

“I...I don't know where it would be located though. You killed him before we could get it out of him.”

“I didn't have a choice,” Arturius sniffed sharply. “He was going to kill you.”

Serana nodded in agreement. “I know. I would have done the same thing.” She looked around and was getting frustrated over what to do. “The portal we came out of is closed. I don't know how we are even getting back.”

Before Arturius could come up with an answer, the throne that Vyrthur sat upon started to shake and come apart. Suddenly, the ground underneath opened up and started to raise. Serana and Arturius were taken off guard as they prepared for the worst. When the seismic activity stopped, they were staring at another Wayshrine. Inside, it was the artifact they were looking for on a pedestal, glowing in all its exuberance. And behind it, another portal that activated. It started to shimmer and glow as Gelebor exited out.

“Wait...What are you doing here?” Arturius demanded.

Gelebor stepped out of the gazebo and looked around with confusion. “Where is he?”

“He's dead,” Serana answered without feeling.

“I know that. I am asking where.”

“Over the side,” Arturius said as he pointed with a thumb over his shoulder. “He's gone.”

“I...I see. Guess you did what you had to do,” the possibly last living snow elf said.

Serana approached Gelebor, not caring she is almost stark naked. “Now for your end of the deal. We get the bow, right?”

“As per agreement. However, I would be most careful. It is an instrument of the sun and as such, can be deadly to you and your kind.”

“That's what he is for,” Serana stated as she rested a hand on Arturius' shoulder.

The Dunmer walked by the uncorrupted Falmer and inspected the shimmering silver and ivory bow in awe. He lifted the holy weapon off the pedestal, feeling a surge of energy flow through his hands. “I can't believe we found it,” Arturius whispered.

Despite its rather simple design, Serana was just as impressed. “Me neither. After all this time, it's almost over.”

Gelebor stood before Serana and waved his hands with glowing magic. “Before you go, I have a final gift to you.”

“W-what is it?”

Without saying another word, the snow elf let the magic flow from his hands into the vampire. The destroyed clothes she wore came to life as they wove back into their original form. Serana was speechless at what occurred.

Before either of them could ask, Gelebor answered prematurely. “Simple alteration magic. Restored your clothes to a previous point in time when they were in one piece, is all.”

“You change the flow of time with magic?”

“To learn alteration is to replace what you know about reality with the impossible,” the snow elf shrugged casually. “Once you do that, the rest comes easy.”

Arturius stood with a blank stare on his face, not even trying to understand what the Knight-Paladin was explaining. It was complete foreign talk between Serana and the snow elf as they discussed universal theories and other planes of existence.

“You done yet?” Arturius groaned, tapping his foot.

“Oh! Sorry,” Serana giggled. “I got distracted with a lesson in alteration magic. It's one of the most complex and powerful schools. I never could get the hang of it.”

Not wanting to continue the esoteric conversation, Arturius questioned Gelebor. “Will this portal return us?”

“Correct.”

Serana shook her head slightly. “But how will we get back after that? It was the river that carried us to the shrine. We can't exactly climb a waterfall.”

The snow elf smiled slightly at what he heard. “You will not need to. There is another Wayshrine near the entrance of the cave that you did not seem to notice. It will prove your journey less strenuous.”

Gelebor touched the portal again, shifting the distorted image from where the first Wayshrine was to another location. Neither Arturius nor Serana could make it out due to it being pitch black. They both took a nervous breath and held onto each others hands before making their way to the portal.

Serana stopped to face the snow elf and gave a bow of respect. “Thank you for everything. You have no idea just how much you helped us.”

Serana and Arturius looked at the portal, ready to brave the the instant travel one more time. The hunter held his breath while the vampire held onto him tightly, not wanting to let go until they made it through the other side. They leapt through the dimension gate at the same time, ready to face the final hours of their journey.

“May Auri-El watch over you in your time of need,” Gelebor prayed as the archaic mirror shifted back to normal.

 


	35. Dark Side of the Moon

Nova approached the black door of the Sanctuary, not wanting to deal with the bombardment of questions of what happened in Markarth and especially, the Night Mother. The raspy voice asked its question and opened up when the Listener gave the answer.

The bitter cold was a blessing when dealing with the pain. It helped numb the pain from her broken ribs, evening out how uncomfortable it normally would be. Triunn helped Nova down the stairs, being careful to avoid the snow brisked steps. Near the bottom, Cicero was dancing in merriment over the return of the Listener.

“Oh Listeneeeer!” the jester squealed with joy. “Poor Cicero was worried about you. We hope you still have your hearing at least. Can't listen if your ears are broken, right?”

Nova ignored the mad clown but his cackle could break through even a dead monk's meditation. Nazir rushed from the dinner table when he heard the sound of Cicero's greeting, as well as the rest of the gang. Before anyone could speak up, Nova raised a hand to make sure she had the floor.

“I'm tired and hurt so I will keep this brief,” Nova instructed. When she had everyone's attention, she cleared her throat before speaking up. “The contract in Markarth thought he could order the Dark Brotherhood around on his terms and upon disagreement over the matter, he threw me in jail. Yes, I escaped and now Markarth is in complete anarchy from the Foresworn. They got out when I did as well and we are on somewhat good terms with them. That's all. Now, if you excuse me, I need a warm bath.”

Before she could move past the other family members, Nazir spoke up. “How did you escape the mines of Markarth exactly?”

Nova scoffed at the question. “Does it matter?”

“Let me rephrase the question then. Why did you not wait until we got you? What if we got there too late to save you from guards? What if they took you to Solitude and we showed up in Markarth without a trace of you to be found?”

“But you didn't and all is well,” Nova sternly replied, not wanting to continue the conversation. The silence in the room confirmed that no one would dare keep talking about the subject.

“ _Listener.”_ The raspy voice of the Night Mother invaded Nova's mind, making her freeze in place. _“You have failed once again; each transgression worse than the last. Not only did you fail to kill the target, you killed the contact.”_

Nova rushed her way through the dining hall in the back room where the Night Mother stood. She had to catch her breath before kneeling down in front of the coffin. “Forgive me, Mother. It was not my inten-”

“ _Intentional or not, the outcome still remains the same. The time of you as Listener has ceased. You are no longer wort-”_

“No! It wasn't my fau-” Nova tried to defend but was cut off in kind.

“ _Silence! You are no longer worthy of being the Listener! Consider yourself fortuitous that I do not seek death for your failures!”_

“Mother, please listen to me the way I have listened to you. Yes, I killed the contact instead of the target. His idea wasn't going to work and because I didn't agree with it, he broke the contract by assaulting me in the first place! You have to understand, Mother, It was not my intention to offend you in any manner.”

Nova sat there, waiting for a reply but only silence was her answer.

“Mother?” she asked again. Silence again. Nova could not even stand on her feet at the revelation that just occurred: she no longer bore the title of Listener anymore. Rage was soon replaced by sorrow, clenched teeth gave way to tears. Rejection; first from Ysolda and now the unholy matron of the Dark Brotherhood. Nova felt like she lost her identity for the second time in her life.

After leaving, Nova went to the master bedroom and slammed the door, wordlessly telling everyone not to bother her for the night. She stomped over to the tub and furiously pumped the spigot, splashing the hot spring water carelessly. The tub itself started to overfill from not paying attention.

After tearing off her dirty and worn armor, Nova looked at herself in the mirror. Disgust and remorse for her failures made her ice blue eyes water up. Her hair was still matted with blood and most of what used to be flawless, pale skin has been darkened with bruises. Nova slammed her fist into the mirror to stop the seeing the image of herself. As she looked at all the broken pieces, there were dozens more staring back.

Not wanting to deal to deal with the mess, Nova lowered herself into the already overfull tub. The hot water burned her cuts and open wounds but liked the feeling for it was a distraction from the most recent loss. Nova's temper was getting hotter than the water itself as she seethed internally. She dumped the last of the lavender extract into the water and threw the vial against the wall. The shattered pieces scattered all across the floor to join the mirror fragments. The bath time was interrupted with someone rapping at the door. Figuring it was a worried member thinking that their leader collapsed, Nova shouted for whoever to piss off.

Still, the knocking persisted, making the irritated Nord leave the soothing waters to answer the door. She wrapped a robe around herself this time before opening the door. “What the hell is it?” she shouted, seeing Caius standing there with a nefarious smile on his face.

“Enjoying your bath time?” he said with a sneer.

Nova furrowed her brow at the question. “I _was._ Now as I said when you were knocking...Piss off!”

Before she could slam the door, Caius stiffened his arm to prevent that from happening. “Actually...I have something to say to you.” The mage leaned uncomfortably close to whisper in Nova's ear. _“Darkness rises when silence dies.”_

Nova's eyes widened in with shock and horror at what he just said. “The Night Mother...You?” The former Listener shook her head in disbelief, not wanting to accept the truth. “It's not possible!”

“Oh, you best believe it,” Caius mocked. “After all this time, you strutting around thinking yourself irreplaceable...Oh, how the tables have turned now, Listener. Oh wait; that's me.”

“Caius, don't yo-”

“That's 'Listener' to you,” he sternly corrected, relishing his new heightened position. “And I do not recall you being in any position to give me orders.” Caius shoved way past, admiring the luxurious bathroom with the adjacent bedroom to match. “My, my...Such a lovely spot you kept all to yourself. I am going to enjoy living here from now on.”

“Like hell, you will! I was the one who brought the Dark Brotherhood to the position it is now! I am not going to have you take all that away from me!”

Caius' gloating smile turned to contempt as he turned his attention to Nova. He grabbed her wet hair, knowing full well she was too weak to fight back in her current state. “I am your leader now and you will know your place, cunt. Do you understand me?”

“Call me that again,” Nova growled.

“ _Cunt..._ ” Caius whispered in her ear before jerking the former Listener's head away. “Any more requests?” Knowing full well she would lose in a fight without her weapons, Nova said nothing. The new Listener finally let go of her hair, leaving Nova broken and defeated beyond anything she had ever experienced. Even further than Astrid's betrayal because she never thought the Night Mother would do such a thing in this lifetime.

Nova didn't know how much time passed before Nazir found the Nord on her knees, staring at the wall like a statue. “Nova, something is up with Caius. He said he had urgent news to share.”

No reply was even attempted as she was frozen in place from the shocking news. Nazir stood Nova up on her feet, trying to get an answer from her. He shook her slightly, trying to get some response out of her.

“I'm...not worthy...anymore,” Nova muttered.

“What?” he asked.

“It is what it is,” Nova replied callously as she slumped back down. “I have no say in the matter.”

“I don't know what's going on but Caius is sitting on your chair at the head of the table,” Nazir explained, hoping to get some reaction out of her. It scared him that it didn't. Instead, he got her back on her feet and went to the main hall. No one was sitting except for Caius who, as Nazir said, was sitting in Nova's place.

Triunn glanced over at the white haired Nord, noticing the lack of energy within her. “Listener?”

Caius instead started chuckling. “Oh, I am afraid that's not her title anymore.”

Babette glared over at the smug mage, ready to rip out his throat. “What treachery drips from your tongue?”

“Treachery? Me?” he said sarcastically. “Why, that's no way to speak of your new Listener like that.”

The whole sanctuary went silent except for Cicero who started cackling. “I thought I was the jester around here?”

“Tell them, Nova,” Caius challenged as he rested his feet on the table. “You wouldn't dare disobey, would you?”

Under any other circumstances, Nova would have thrown a dagger into the man's chest and tossed his corpse out for the wolves to feast on. Or tortured him until he begged for the sweet release of death. Instead, didn't say a word and caught everyone off guard as a single tear ran down her face. That alone gave the answer that stunned everyone, including Cicero.

“Now, you see? Her role as leader is no longer for I am now filling that position,” Caius gloated as he stood up from his now claimed throne. “I am your new Listener. Understand, Nova?”

She didn't respond until he demanded her to do so. “Yes,” she complied.

“Yes...What?”

“Yes...” Nova began to say before inhaling sharply through her nose, not wanting to finish. The anticipation was building as Caius was waiting for her to submit to his authority. “Listener,” the broken assassin said.

* * *

Nova woke up in the early hours of the morning, her body aching more from the primitive bed she was confined to than the injuries themselves. The smell of food provided a good distraction from the thoughts in her head. After staggering to the dining room where everyone was gathered around the table. Nova shuffled to the only empty seat which had an empty plate as well.

The whole family was enjoying their breakfast of fried eggs, crispy ham, all stacked up a slice of toast with hollandaise sauce smothering it. Nova looked up from the barren plate and noticed there wasn't any food left for her. “Where's mine?”

Caius flashed that same wicked smile. “That is what happens to lazy people who sleep in. Tis quite disrespectful, if you ask me.” The new Listener wiped his mouth off with a napkin and tossed it on his plate. “You can clean up when we're done, Nova. After that, make sure the horses are tended to.”

“ _Goddamn prick,”_ Nova muttered under her breath.

“Excuse me?” Caius asked.

“I'll be quick,” she answered instantly. Caius drummed his fingers on the table, not content with her answer. _“Listener,”_ she disdainfully finished, making Caius satisfied.

“Never get tired of that. Now, if you excuse me; duty calls.”

Everyone was silent until they were out of earshot from the pompous Listener. Nazir shook his head and banged his fist on the table in frustration. “It's not been a day and I am already tired of his attitude. What in the hell did you do to piss off the Night Mother so bad that she chose him over you?”

“I'm not worthy anymore,” Nova said brokenheartedly as she gathered the dishes.

“I concur with Nazir,” Babette spoke. “I cannot fathom why our Matron would have that buffoon rise to leader over you.”

“What the hell do you want me to do about it?!” Nova asked with both desperation and anger as she slammed the dishes down, breaking the one on the bottom. “This is how it is, rather we like it or not.

The female initiate whose name Nova could not remember spoke up. “If you are all against it, why follow?”

“Did you not hear what I just said?” Nova growled. “Without the Listener, contracts get ignored. Contracts get ignored, people lose faith. Then it all falls apart.”

“If I recall correctly, the Dark Brotherhood was doing fine until you showed up and got half of them killed. So who really caused it to fall apart?”

Nova was stunned at what she just heard, completely shaken to the core. “How dare you...”

“Caius is the new Listener now just as I am the new Speaker; his right hand man. Or should I say, woman. You have no power anymore.”

Nazir stood up, knocking his chair over. “I've been the Speaker before you we-”

“Not anymore,” the woman said with smiling eyes. She still wore the face mask and hood, hiding the rest of her facade.

“And what name does the _new_ Speaker go as?” Nova asked unexpectedly, remaining calm.

“All this time and you _still_ don't know my name?!” She tore off her face mask, revealing herself for the first time to the former Listener. “It's Thesla, you bitch! Thesla!”

Nova was shocked as she didn't even know that the initiate was a wood elf. “Well then, Thesla. I may not be Listener right now, but that doesn't mean I won't kill you if you ever speak to me like that again.”

“Try me, you washed up, old ha-”

Nova grabbed a shard from the broken plate and launched herself over the table, ready to jab makeshift knife into her throat. However, the enraged assassin was pulled off by Triunn and Nazir.

“I will have your head for this!” Thesla screamed.

Caius stormed into the dining room, slamming the door to get everybody's attention. “What in Oblivion is going on in here?!”

“That bitch attacked and threatened to kill me!” the Bosmer stated.

Caius sauntered over to Nova who was struggling to escape the grip of the two assassins. “Take her to the torture room,” he said coldly. “I would teach her a lesson in respect.”

Nazir looked at Nova with a look of doubt but did as he was told. “I'm sorry, Nova. Rules are rules.”

Triunn said nothing as Nova looked at him to stand up for his former leader. Instead, they both did as commanded, taking her to the room that Nova once held Caius in for his disrespect. The cold, iron clasps locked tight around her wrists. Nazir gave a solemn expression of guilt before leaving. Triunn leaned up against the wall, showing no such remorse. Nova wasn't even sure if he was even capable of having such an emotion in the first place.

Caius approached the table and pulled back the cloth, showing off various instruments of torture. He skipped over the meat hook, the long and narrow pins, and went straight to the same whip Nova used on him. “Do you remember how many times you lashed me just for saying how I enjoyed showing your body off to me?”

Nova didn't reply except a sharp exhale of air through her nose.

Caius grabbed hold of the prisoner's clothing and tore the back side wide open, exposing bare skin. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

The Listener brought the whip back and struck forward, arcing the metal tip straight into Nova's back. The lashing tore open her skin with ease. The whip cracked against her back again, hitting the exact same spot. This time, tearing through the muscle. Nova let out a slight whimper but did her best to hold strong her resolve.

Stroke after stroke of the merciless whip cleaved into Nova's back until she cried out in pain. “Stop...Please,” she begged.

“I'm sorry...What was that?” Caius mocked, holding a hand to his ear.

“Stop,” Nova groaned weakly.

“Oh, that won't do,” he said menacingly.

Just as he raised the whip up again, Triunn grabbed hold of his new leader's wrist. “She's already been through enough lately. The mistake has been acknowledged. Anything beyond that is heedless and unnecessary.”

Caius let the scourge dangle at his side. “You hardly ever talk nor care about anything. However, when it comes to this wench, you seem to always come to her defense. Are your loyalties with her more so than me?” he accused.

“I am advanced in the proficiencies of torture and what the body can handle. If you continue, she will die.”

Caius chuckled at the idea of that happening, finding enjoyment if that were the outcome. “I suppose she has learned her lesson. Besides, she still needs to tend to the horses. Can't do that dead.” The mage tossed the bloody whip on the table and walked off, casually whistling a tune.

Triunn unlocked the shackles that bound Nova to the wall, causing her to fall to the ground. The assassin retrieved a clean rag as well as a needle and thread to tend to the wound. “Consume this,” he instructed.

“W-what are you doing?” Nova asked weakly.

“The wounds are too deep to heal on their own. This medicine will help with the pain so I can suture the injuries. Otherwise, your death is imminent.”

Nova shook her head, not wanting any assistance in the matter. “I don't care anymore. I've already lost everything.”

“You...” Triunn struggled to speak. “You have...me.”

Nova scoffed at the notion but realized how off putting that was. “Apologies...I just...I don't know what is going on through your head at times.”

Triunn continued soaking up the blood to stop the flow but was facing an uphill battle in that aspect. He handed her a vial of dark, brown liquid. “Take this. It will help with the pain without knocking you out.”

Nova sighed but did as she was told. She swallowed the disgustful fluid, almost passing out from the horrid taste itself. “The hell rotgut is that?”

“Shh,” Triunn requested as he pulled out a needle and thread. “Do not converse. It causes distraction and unneeded movement.”

The two sat in silence except for the squishy noise of flesh being mended. The work was tedious as he had to close the torn muscle first before being able to bind the skin. After over an hour of painstaking work, Triunn cleaned up all the bloody residue off his cramping hands and sighed with relief at the task being over.

“It's done.”

Nova nodded as Triunn draped a blanket around her. She turned around to stare at Triunn with confusion. “Why are you doing this?”

“My reasons are my own,” he coldly stated, reverting back to the estranged killer that was more recognizable.

“No...Give me a real answer. A human answer,” Nova requested.

“You do not remember, do you?”

“Remember...what?”

Triunn sat next to Nova with his arms folded across his chest. “My uncle took me in after my parents died. Do you recall several months ago near Whiterun where you killed a group of bandits hiding out in that camp that trapped and killed mammoths?”

“Uhh...” Nova could not recall the specifics but the details were familiar. “Sort of?”

“He was not exactly the most intelligent person, if you could even call him that. He was more of an animal. Between the constant beatings, never allowing me to sleep until my chores were done...Among other things.” Triunn's voice cracked slightly at the last part.

Nova didn't want to be nosy but could guess what he meant by that. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

Triunn regained his composure as he continued. “It was another cold night and the only warmth I could get was from a burlap sack. However, it was the night that changed my life, thanks to you.”

“So I killed your uncle? That was just business. That does-”

“It wasn't that. It was what you did afterward. After you killed him and the rest of the poachers, you looked at me and saw not a witness but a victim. I do not know why to this day but you took me to Whiterun. Gave me enough money for food, proper clothing, a meal that wasn't spoiled and cold for once...”

“That was...you?” Nova was completely shocked at the transformation from a dirty, shaggy haired, malnourished young adult to what he is now. “I had no...Why didn't you tell me this when you joined up?”

“Because you did not desire to know the initiates. So I left it at that.”

Nova let out a regretful sigh as she rested brought her knees up to her chest to lay her chin on. “So you feel indebted to me or something? Is that it?”

Triunn shook his head before answering. “If you had just killed my uncle and his group of poachers, I probably would have just given up on life since I figured no one would ever care about me. But that act of kindness gave me a new hope in life. That is why I joined the Dark Brotherhood...Because of you.”

“I...I don't even know what to say. I didn't think it was that big of a deal in the first place,” Nova humbly replied. “That still doesn't explain how a bandit from a lowly gang is so intelligent and composed. Your talents were wasted with them.”

“And better served for your purpose,” Triunn replied with a bow.

Nova dug her fingers into her palm. “If you feel so strongly about that, why did you stand by and watch as that prick flogged me like that?”

“It would have aroused too much suspicion if I had spoken up immediately,” Triunn responded with a tinge of ruefulness in his voice.

“I suppose I would have done the same thing in your position,” Nova groaned as she went to stand up. The stitches her in back stretched from the movement but still held together. “Where did you learn medicine?”

Triunn let out a small humorous scoff. “In all honesty, I never did. With skinning animals and taxidermy, you have to learn anatomy and needlework. I just applied it in this circumstance.”

“So you only practiced on dead animals...That sounds comforting,” Nova said as she rolled her eyes.

“If I was not confident in my abilities, I would not have done so, Lis-” Triunn quickly cut himself off but Nova appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. She leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek, catching him off guard with such an action.

“That's my way of saying thanks,” she said before painfully walking towards the door. Before she left, Nova looked over her shoulder to the still stunned Triunn. “And if you tell anyone about that, I wi-”

“Kill me in my sleep?” Triunn answered preemptively.

Nova smiled softly as she leaned up against the archway. “No...I would just be disappointed in you,” she answered honestly. “Now, it seems I have to go tend to the goddamned horses.”

“Do you require assistance in the matter?”

“Doesn't the _Listener_ want something else of you? Maybe his boots need polished with your tongue?”

Triunn stared with an unamused look on his face. “Saliva would not accomplish a decent shine nor would the tongue be abrasive enou-”

Nova already walked away, not wanting to hear the literal response to her question. The worn out assassin went to her primitive room without a door to change out of her blood soaked clothes. As she dropped the towel, Nazir walked by and let out a disgusted gasp.

“Gods...What in the name of Sithis did he do to you?” he asked, upon seeing the stitch work. “Your back looks like a sewn up ragdoll after a mutt chewed on it. Who treated you?”

“Triunn,” Nova answered as she slipped on a loose fitting robe as to not agitate the stitches.

“That man is weird. Never talks except simple _'Yes, sir. No, sir.'_ to me. Yet, he seems to have a soft spot,” Nazir observed as he twisted his braided goatee. “At first, I gathered it was because you were just the Listener but it seems it's you and you alone.”

Nova shrugged at his questions, not wanting to go into detail. “I gotta tend to the horses. So if you'll excuse me.”

The Redguard stepped out of the way and watched Nova take leave to do the slave work that was demanded of her. “Getting whiplash with how much my head spins trying to figure out what the hell is going on around here...”

The outside air was blew through the frozen and lifeless branches of the trees. A coat of fresh, powdered snow crunched softly under Nova's boots as she approached the stables. The smell of manure was kept relatively quashed thanks to the cold but the stench grew stronger as she drew closer. The shovel itself was old, making Nova let out a string of curses as she got splinters just from taking hold of the shaft.

Shadowmere grunted as he dug at the ground with his hoof, signaling being hungry. “Hold yourself. I got your apples and snowberries,” she crooned softly. She tossed the shovel on the ground and reached into her pouch for the treats.

The dark haired horse devoured them instantly and snorted happily, nuzzling his favored human with his cold and wet nose. Nova smiled as she scratched him behind the ear, forgetting the troubles that plagued her as of late. She pulled out all the stops from grooming his fine fur to cleaning out his hooves, giving Nova no troubles.

“You're still not done?” Caius asked with contempt. “Been over an hour and you're still playing with that horse.”

Nova kept her mouth shut, not wanting to incite any type of retaliation. Instead, she grabbed some feed and filled the trough, dumping it without care. The Listener's eyes gazed, watching every painstaking move with silent judgment. Nova quickly combed over the rest of the half dozen horses, spending just as much time on all of them combined as she did with just Shadowmere alone.

“You know, when we went to rescue your corpse, I tried to get on that damned horse of yours. Didn't seem to like that. I thought it was just because you were the Listener at the time. Do you think he will let me ride him now?”

“Welcome to try,” Nova said, hiding the smirk that wanted to escape.

Caius' eyes narrowed at the response. “I should just kill the fucking thi-”

“He is a member of this family!” Nova snapped. “Has been since the Listener before me even. You even so much as lay a hurtful hand on him, I and the others will invoke the Wrath of Sithis upon you,” Nova promised. “It doesn't matter if you are the Listener or a damned initiate; no one breaks the Five Tenets. ”

“Yeah. Yeah...Don't kill other members, follow your superiors, don't steal from other members, or betray the Brotherhood, which includes lying. You followed them and look where you ended up,” Caius smirked, enjoying the digs at Nova's fall from grace.

“Still alive which you won't be if you think you can do whatever you hell you want without suffering the consequences.”

“And what about when you attacked poor Thesla? Does the Wrath of Sithis punish you for trying to kill her?”

“If the Dread Father wills it, I will accept the consequences of my actions,” Nova plainly stated as she returned to Shadowmere, petting his long face. “And I am going to give you the same advice Babette gave me. Loyalty and obedience are not the same thing. You best remember that the next time you feel the need to treat us like slaves.”

“Is that a threat?” Caius growled as his hands turned to fire. “That sounds like you are planning a mutiny against your leader.”

“I would never do such a thing,” Nova said, keeping a straight face.

“Now I know you are lying, as is against the Five!” he accused, pointing his fiery hand at the assassin.

“Then may Sithis strike me down if that is so.” Nova stretched out her arms, wincing in pain from the movement of the stitches. “Even if I were, you as Listener do not have the authority to carry out capital punishment against me.”

“Hmpf,” Caius scoffed as he quenched the flames. “I will be keeping an eye on you, Moonshade. Very closely.”

“The only thing you need to do is keep your ears open, Listener. That's all.”

“Finish up with those damn horses already,” Caius ordered before turning around to storm out of the stables in vexation.

“I don't think I can stay here any longer. There's no place for me.” Nova looked at Shadowmere with sorrow in her eyes. A single trapped tear ran down her cheek. Before it could fall off into the snowy ground, her favored horse darted out his tongue to slurp it up. Nova finally cracked a smile, appreciating the heart warming gesture.

“I am going to miss you,” the assassins said, giving the demon horse a kiss on top of his head. As she started walking away to leave behind the first life she remembered. As she took a few steps, a pain shot through her back, making her yelp out. The Nord turned around to see Shadowmere grunting as he nudged her again.

“What? What do you want from me? I told you already...I cannot stay here any longer.” Again, he nudged her softly, grunting as he stared at her with those glowing red eyes that held brimstone in them. It was then she finally understood what Shadowmere wanted. She hoisted herself up on the horse. “Let's get out of here then.”

 


	36. Ever Onward

Arturius shivered over the glowing fire, trying to keep himself warm from the bitter night air. Luckily, the rocky shelf that curved around provided an ample shelter from the wind that was blowing over him. However, the cold was still bothersome. An unfortunate soul tried to make shelter here previously as well but from the looks of the skeletal remains, he was torn apart by either a bear or a sabrecat.

Serana approached from behind and draped her arms around the elf's broad shoulders. “How come you set up a campfire when we do not even have a tent to sleep in?”

Arturius flinched at the deathly touch. “Because a p-proper tent is made from an-animal hide,” he shivered.

“And you didn't bother to check that chest over there?” Serana proposed with a smile.

“I d-d-don't rob the d-dead,” Arturius said, his voice muffled through his hands to try and keep them warm.

Serana shook her head and kissed the Dunmer on the neck. “If you did, you would have seen a pile of furs and pelts that could be used to stop you from shivering so much.”

Arturius grumbled, unsure of what to do. Although the animal hides could be put to good use, it still felt morally wrong in his heart to rob from a dead person. However, it wasn't a proper grave nor was it gold and other precious heirlooms. It was just an unlucky hunter who didn't make it. Arturius shivered again and realized it would be better to go with Serana's proposition.

“Fine. You win,” the elf groaned. He trudged his way to the chest and opened it up, amazed by the dozen or so furs and pelts from various animals. Near the top of the pile was a sabrecat pelt and assumed that his family avenged him against the hunter. Regardless, they would provide decent warmth for the night.

“I knew you would come to your senses,” the vampire giggled. She watched as Arturius laid out all the furs like a carpet in front of the fire and sat on them. “Aren't you going to make a tent?”

“We need s-some sticks to support t-t-the tents,” he chattered as he wrapped the hides around himself as a makeshift cloak. It took a while to cease the shivering, making his body relax after being tense for so long.

Serana rested her head on Arturius' lap and stared up a the night sky. “I've always loved the stars,” she sighed happily. “So beautiful.”

Arturius leaned down and kissed the enchantress before him, losing his breath in the moment. Arturius bit his bottom lip as his eyes got lost in hers. “The stars shimmer but not as much as your eyes.”

“Well, aren't you mister smooth talker. Trying to butter me up?” Serana teased.

Arturius waved his hair from both their faces and caressed her check. “Do I need a reason to show my love to you?”

“You've done so much, I don't know how I could ever thank you, Arturius.” Serana got up and sat across from him, her eyes misty from emotion. “You saved me from the worst parts possible and despite our differences, you never gave up on me. Now that we have the bow to stop my father, I could not think of a better person by my side.”

The words hit him hard in the heart. “I-I,” he stammered; not from the cold but from being exposed emotionally. Arturius clenched his jaw as he took a deep breath to gather composure. “I've been trying to...umm...Trying to find the proper words.” The hunter bit his bottom lip as he scratched the back of his neck.” I adore you more than any person I've met or will meet. You actually make me vulnerable but...but I feel stronger around you, if that makes any sense.”

Serana's bottom jaw quivered into a smile as she lunged toward Arturius, hugging him tightly. They held each other in silence, knowing that no more words were needed. The vampire leaned back and pushed Arturius on the pelts as she let out a wicked grin, bearing her fangs. The partial moons hovered above her head, hanging like a halo.

“Like a child of the moon,” Arturius remarked, making Serana tilted her head slightly at what she just heard. “The moons illuminates you perfectly. Makes you look even more beautiful.”

“If I am your moon, you can't exactly be my sun,” the vampire teased as she played with Arturius' hair between her fingers. Serana leveled her body with Arturius' and rested her head on his shoulder, “How about you just be mine?” she crooned.

The hunter wrapped his thick arms around his lover to hold her close. “Always,” Arturius whispered gently, grinning as he kissed her soft and tender lips.

Serana leaned up, straddling the elf as she started to undo her corset. The woven braids came loose, dropping it onto the pelts. Arturius growled from his throat in aroused fervor, holding onto the vampire's hips. Serana could feel the tension rise from between her legs. Her nails into his pectoral muscles, making the Dunmer groan with painful excitement. Upon seeing the blood ooze out like a tantalizing treat, she latched herself onto the open wound, taking in the life force. Serana moaned with delight, lusting for the blood play even more.

When she got her fill, the vampire pulled away, smearing the fluid all over her body like a bloody ritual. “Why are you so addicting, my love?”

“The same reason you are to me,” Arturius beamed, waving a healing hand over his chest.

Serana let out an exaggerated frown, sticking out her bottom lip. “Aww...Are you cutting me off now?” she teased, licking the crimson residue off her fingers.

“I got something else for you instead,” Arturius teased back, rolling his hips to hover his body over Serana's.

“Mmm,” the seductive creature of the night crooned. “I've taught you well.”

Arturius looked up at the goddess staring up at him with lust and love mixed together. The chill in the air didn't bother him anymore as his heart forced adrenaline throughout his body, tense and eager. He leaned down and kissed her soft neck, making Serana tilt her head to give him more access. Both of her hands lingered through his hair, wanting more of the sensational feeling. As much as he wanted to tear her clothes off, he took a more gentle approach. The corset slipped off with ease, freeing the confined breasts. The moment his tongue touched them, Serana gasped, whispering her lover's name, urging him for more. She in turn became the animal when she tore her clothes off to the point of them being ripped.

His skin was warm enough to heat the air it seems. Despite him being on top, the vampire felt more in control. When Serana could not wait any longer with the foreplay, she quickly undressed the elf in the same fashion. Their lips were locked tight together as her claw like nails dug in deep the same time he did between her thighs. The stretching scratched the itch Serana desired with her mate. This was the only time she enjoyed being controlled.

She gave into him as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling Arturius into her more. Her eyes glowed orange with ecstasy, desiring more. The way he moved and was grinding his pelvis made her hips buck as the tension of an orgasm was welling up inside. With every thrust bringing Serana closer to the brink of the unstoppable. The flared head stretched perfectly inside as Arturius was gentle but still fierce in his sinful prowess.

Unexpectedly, she threw the elf to the side and climbed on top, a devilish grin appearing, making her fangs gleam in the moonlight. Arturius rested his hands on her hips, helping guide them although Serana needed no such assistance as she gyrated on the throbbing shaft.

Arturius clenched the ground, unable to withstand more of Serana's Dibellan arts. She moved even faster, making sure every inch of the phallic was inside. Her smoldering inner muscles spasming, urging forth to bring out the desired seed from within. Arturius then shot up, embracing the titillating vampire at the same time he found release.

Their heavy breathing hung in the night air as well the smell of sweat from their sins of the flesh. Arturius shivered but not from the cool, dark air but from the rush of excitement and passion coursing through his veins. He opened his eyes to see soft amber ones staring back gently.

“I never want to be without you, Serana.”

The lady of the night nuzzled her head into the broad shoulders of Arturius, kissing ever so slightly but without the need for blood. Still straddling him, she leaned back to hang off him as she stared into the starlit sky. “And I never want to you leave either. You wouldn't want me to enthrall you,” she teased.

Arturius laid down onto the welcoming cold ground, making his sweaty back shiver. “Never would have to do that,” he replied back with a chuckle. “My heart and soul belong to you already.”

“And what does a vampire like me have to offer you? Since I am undead, I am technically without a soul and my heart stopped beating a long time ago.”

Arturius looked up at the goddess straddling him and rested a calloused hand on her cheek. “You have enough soul to overflow any sized soul gem in existence.”

“Such a word smith,” Serana teased as she leaned down to kiss the smiling lips. “You should be a bard with that kind of talent.”

“Now that was just cold,” Arturius jested before realizing he was shivering. “Actually, I am feeling cold. I need to get dressed.”

“Aww...Already?” Serana pouted, not wanting the fun to end so soon.

“The beds at Jorrvaskr are better than the ground here,” he promised. “If you are up for it.”

“Like you could keep up with me,” Serana challenged, making her inner muscles flex again, causing Arturius to gasp.

“Tease.”

“I like to please more than anything,” she winked before releasing his member from her now drenched depths from both of their fluids. “As you should know.”

Arturius got up on his feet and picked Serana up in his thick arms, kissing her again. “Don't make me carry you to Whiterun to prove you right.”

* * *

As they made their way up the steps to Jorrvaskr, Arturius heard steel ringing in the courtyard. They went around to see who was still up and from the large blade, knew it who was instantly. “You know, the dummies won't fight back Vilkas,” the elf jested as he approached his fellow shield-brother.

Vilkas rested the flat of the heavy two handed sword on his steel pauldron, scoffing at the remark. “Well, I figured they at least put up more of a fight than you,” he joked back.

“You mean like the time you were testing me to see how well I could hold my own and knocked you flat on your ass?”

They both chuckled at the banter before Serana spoke up, getting Vilkas' attention. “I know you and the rest of the Companions don't know me but there's something we need to discuss.”

“Aye,” Arturius nodded in agreement, taking a more serious approach in the matter. “You know where Aela and your brother are?”

“Uhh...Aela is in the Underforge and I believe Farkas is sleeping in the living quarters. Why?”

“This is a matter for the Inner Circle but I want everyone's input first,” Arturius answered.

“What's the Underforge?” Serana asked with curious intent as she followed Arturius.

“Exactly that. A place under the Skyforge,” he answered plainly. “Tis where the Inner Circle have meetings.”

“So this Inner Circle...Are you all werewolves?”

“All except Farkas. He wanted to be cured.”

“A cure...” Serana mumbled as her eyes lowered to the ground.

Arturius took pause as he faced the obvious upset woman. “What is it?”

The vampire let out a soft sigh as she looked up at the elf. “A cure is meant to remedy an illness or disease. Is that what you think being a werewolf or vampire is?”

Arturius folded his arms as he pondered that thought. “I personally don't because I think of it as a blessing. Others however, desire to be cured.”

“I guess,” Serana dejectedly replied.

The conversation was cut off as Arturius opened up the stone doorway to the Underforge. The air was musty and thick as they made their way in, hearing the soft chanting of a woman.

“So, the Harbinger returns to Jorrvaskr,” Aela grunted as she approached the two of them. “And you dare bring her to this sacred place?!”

“Calm yourself, Aela. This is a matter I need to discuss with everyone in the Inner Circle.”

The redheaded huntress spat on the ground. “She's not even part of the Inner Circle; much less, even a Companion! You defile this place with her presence!”

“The matters at hand are bigger than tradition right now,” Arturius dismissed easily. “Trust me on th-”

“Trust you?!” Aela laughed at the request. “You haven't done anything to gain trust since you disappeared to hunt vampires. Then you are found in the company of one, reeking of her scent. Care to explain how you end up fucking the very thing you swore would eradicate?”

“And that is why I called the twins for this meeting,” Arturius growled, baring his teeth in response. Before things could get too tense, the warrior brothers entered the Underforge. “And speak of the devils...”

“Arturius?” Farkas yawned heavily as he drug his feet. “The hell took you so long to return? Been months and not a letter or a visit or anything. And who is this? I don't remember any new members.”

“Careful,” Aela warned. “She's a vampire.”

“Vampire? Why on Nirn did you bring a vampire here?!” he demanded.

“That is exactly why I called this meeting in the first place. There is much to discuss,” Arturius stated calmly as he sat down on one of the stone carved chairs.

Serana coughed nervously, breaking her silence for the first time. “Since you two already know the basics, I am going to make it short and simple for you. There is a vampire lord who wishes to block out the sun for all eternity. Arturius and I secured a weapon that can kill him. However, it will take more than the two of us to do such a feat. That is why we came here. Any questions?”

Farkas stood flabbergasted over the short tale, unable to find words. Aela took lead as she approached the vampire with a glare in her eyes. “You said earlier over near Markarth that this lord is your father right? How do we know this whole thing isn't a trap?”

Farkas nodded in agreement. “Something isn't adding up. As a vampire, wouldn't you enjoy eternal night with the rest of your ilk?”

Before Serana could answer, Vilkas spoke up. “And what would happen to the plants without sun? Without them, all the animals die too. Sounds more like ending the world than it would be helping just vampires. It's a mutually ensured destruction.”

Serana was impressed with Vilkas' way of thinking. “It's exactly that reason we need to stop my father.”

Aela launched herself at the vampire, their noses barely touching. “You didn't answer my question, bloodsucker.”

Serana took a step back to create some distance as she folded her arms in defiance to Aela's magisterial posture. “There would be no reason for it to be a trap. I would have just killed Arturius and taken the bow to my father instead of coming here, asking for help.”

The huntress stood still for a while before relaxing herself. “So what is so special about this weapon?”

Arturius fielded the question. “Auriel's Bow. It's a weapon that is connected to the sun. With its power, it can destroy any vampire with ease. However...” He paused before showing off the silver weapon to the rest of the Inner Circle. “It can be tainted to banish the sun instead. Thus, fulfilling this false prophecy.”

Farkas scoffed at the story, not believing such a fear is possible. “So why not destroy the damn thing? Wouldn't that be easiest?”

Arturius stood dumbstruck over the question, wondering why he never thought that as well. “Yeah, why not?” he asked, hoping not to sound like an idiot. They all stared awkwardly at Serana, wanting an answer.

“If you think you can destroy it, you are welcome to try,” Serana challenged. “That bow was forged by the Divines. Only they can undo their work.”

“Oh,” both Arturius and Farkas said simultaneously.

“Do either of you even know how to shoot a bow?” Aela sternly asked. “I know for a fact you could not hit the broad side of a mammoth, Arturius. You're only good with a sword and board.”

“I've learned how to shoot a crossbow since joining the Dawnguard,” the elf fired back, gripping the bow tightly.

“And? If you don't know the difference between them, you really haven't learned a damn thing. You don't even have a plan except charge in stupidly and hope for the best. Gods be damned, Ras’zagal; You're more of an ice brain than Farkas.” Aela sauntered past everyone, walking out of the Underforge. “I'm not interested in a suicide mission.”

“That went better than expected,” Arturius exclaimed with a shrug before turning to the twins. “What say you two?”

Farkas cracked his knuckles and grinned with eager passion. “I wouldn't mind killing a few vampires here and there.”

“Easy there, Brother. I am sure there are more than a few, correct?” Vilkas asked, turning his attention to Serana.

“There is a whole clan of them in a large castle. If there's only going to be the four of us, we don't have a snowball's chance in hell.” Serana slunk her shoulders as she leaned up against the rough stone wall. “Aela's right. It's a suicide mission.”

“What about them hunters you were hanging with, Arturius?” Farkas simply asked.

The elf curled his lips together before speaking. “They didn't like the idea of me being with a vampire to hunt other vampires. So...I left.”

“More like kicked out,” Serana jibbed.

“So...” Farkas drawled. “What do we do now?”

“I don't know,” Arturius confessed with defeated spirit as he pinched the skin on his nose between his heavy set brows. “I really don't know...”

Vilkas marched over to Arturius and before the elf could react, the brutish Nord swung a heavy fist into his face. Serana was ready to leap into action at the assault towards her lover. Her hands were energized with lightning but Farkas stood in front of her, ceasing any action. “Let them sort it out. That's how they do it.”

“Hmph...Fine.” The vampire pulled her magic back inside her hands.

Arturius rubbed his sore jaw and moved it around to make sure it was still intact. “Mind explaining that before I slam your face into the wall?”

Vilkas rubbed his sore fist before pointing a swollen finger at his leader. “You've spent months trying to find a way to stop this vampire menace and you suddenly just give up? The whole time me and Aela walked back after crossing paths with you two, she kept going on about how aimless you are as a leader. I defended you but it seems my judgment was misplaced.” Vilkas took in a deep breath before stomping his way out of the Underforge in a fit of anger. “You need to figure out how you are following through with this plan. If you don't believe in yourself, how can the rest of the Companions?”

The Underforge was silent except for a frustrated sigh that escaped from the vampire. She paced back and forth, racking her brain to try and formulate a plan of action. The castle her father resided in had dozens of vampires last time she was there. Gods know how many more have joined over the last few thousand years. Variables added risk and with such few numbers on their side, the idea of stopping Harkon seemed impossible the more she thought about it. Assaulting head-on would be suicide plus the fact that they would just be handing the bow on a silver platter.

Farkas broke Serana's focus when he spoke up. “Instead of marching up there, can we sneak in by any chance?”

“Unless you can mask your heartbeats, you can't hide.” Serana was sure of that. “The only living ones are the rats and the cattle.”

“Cattle?” Farkas repeated with confusion.”

“Yeah. Human cattle they keep in the dungeons. Easier to keep the blood flowing instead of having to kill and replace.”

Farkas scrunched up his face at how casual she made it sound. “I could never be a vampire.”

Before a debate of ethics could ensue, Arturius spoke his mind. “So these vampires sit in a castle all day and have their food brought to them? Surely, they leave to get more at some point, right?”

Serana nodded but didn't know where the line of questioning was heading. “And?”

“If we cut off the supplies, we thin out their numbers as well as causing a panic.” The elf balled up a fist and slammed it into his palm. “Those two combined give us an advantage.”

“That could takes months,” Serana said.

“Are we in a rush?” Farkas asked innocently.

Serana's eyes shifted to the side before standing still. The question answered itself. “No, I guess not. Just seems boring is all.”

“It's not like we are doing this for fun,” Arturius said with a shrug.

Farkas rested a heavy hand on the shoulder of his Harbingers, eager for the fight ahead. “Let's go get Aela and my brother. I know us four are more than capable of handling a few blood suckers.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally added a part I meant to delete. I was going to do something along the lines of Arturius and Serana finding a homeless girl and whatnot...Decided against it. Somehow, I forgot to delete that part.


	37. Forsaken

It was the last place Nova could call home. She staggered to the porch and raised a shaking hand that was reluctant to open the door. The rest of her froze with fear over the thought of Ysolda being here. It took every ounce of strength to summon forth the will power to open the door. After what seemed like an eternity, Nova held her breath as she rested an anxious ridden palm on the magically imbued wood. Neon blue veins coursed through the door until the locking mechanism allowed entry into the home. Nova's lungs finally released the tension stored inside as she stepped inside the darkened entryway. The afternoon sun offered little help as she squinted into the black void. The dead air inside was the same temperature as the frosty atmosphere outside.

Nova cleared her throat before speaking into the dark and cold home. “Ysolda?” she called out. “Are you here?”

Silence echoed back. The snow haired Nord felt along the walls until she grasped the fabric on the window that banished any unwelcome rays of light. With a firm yank, the sun was an invited guest inside, showing that the home was the same as when Nova left. Nova walked into the bedroom, a saddened look creased her face as the memories of her beloved invaded her mind. She took a step back and heard a crunch under her foot. Looking down, she saw the necklace she gifted Ysolda to replace the one that was stolen. With rage building up, the heart broken woman kicked the jewelry across the room,

Nova tore open the drawers of the dresser and the doors to the closet only to find them completely barren of Ysolda's belongings. Everything of hers was gone. It wasn't shocking to say the least. The anxiety built up regardless and she stormed out of there before it overwhelmed her.

Shadowmere's hooves thundered against the hard, cold ground, heading toward Riften. As the black stallion got close to the stables, Nova hopped off, knowing full well he could situate himself easily. Two guards stood about, joking their tall tales and stories when the Nova approached them.

The taller of them addressed her by holding a hand up. “You can't enter. There's recently been slaughter and the Jarl isn't allowing anyone in or out until proper investigation.”

Nova rolled her eyes at the old news. “I don't care. I am looking for Ysolda.”

The guard stepped closer, resting a gauntlet heavy hand on his battle ax that has seen better days but could cleave a man in half. “And the Jarl said, no one in or out. So Piss off before you regret it.”

Nova's back was still racked with pain and knew that any further excursion would tear apart the primitive sutures that barely held her skin together. Deciding to go with her better judgment, the former Listener tried a more diplomatic approach. “Can you at least tell me if she is here?”

Neither one knew and sent Nova on her way. She stomped back to the stables and left in a hurry. Not far down the road was the Khajiit caravan, the very one that Ysolda worked with. When she slowed her demonic horse down, she approached Ri'saad furrowed his brows as he ears laid back, almost looking like he was ready to attack.

Nova looked down at the angry Khajiit. “Have you seen Ysolda?”

Ri'saad folded his furry arms across his chest and shook his head, causing the heavy rings in his ears to jangle. “Ysolda left days ago. Would not tell Ri'saad where to,” he seethed with resentment.

Khayla also piped up with contempt in her voice. “One knows you upset our furless friend.”

Nova clenched the reigns in her hand, not wanting to hear the story that is already known to her. “So you don't know where?”

This time, Ri'saad bared his teeth as he spoke. “Even if Khajiit knew, you would not be told.”

Nova's temper flared and was ready to lash out with both tongue and steel. Instead, she yipped at Shadowmere and rode away. The late afternoon sun was dimming behind a wisp of clouds, causing the air to drop several degrees. When she got back to the house, it no longer felt like a home. Before the last of daylight could disappear behind heavy clouds, Nova was able to start a fire in the hearth. The smoldering embers turned into a blaze, warming up the house almost immediately. She lit a candle and went to the pantry to find something to eat. The neglected food was moldy and the only salvageable sustenance was some rough jerky and dried beans. The meat was over salted but tasted better than the bitterness of starving. After chewing on it for several minutes, it became a chore to try and eat it.

Nova boiled up a pot of water and threw in the jerky and beans in to form a crude stew. The first bite was bland and depressing, making her miss the piquant entrees' her wife could conjure. Upon the memory of Ysolda, Nova threw the bowl across the room, shattering it in the fireplace. The table followed shortly after, being flipped in an umbrage of fury. Shallow breathing was soon replaced with tears, both from heartache and the pain from her back. She was seized in place for a few moments as the pain washed over her. The lone occupant of the house went to the back room where several vials were sitting on a shelf, collecting dust. Nova grazed her fingers over the labels. The last dose of medicine Nova had on her was taken yesterday but when she took off her shirt, a malodorous stench wafted her nose. The once white bandages were soaked with bloody purulence.

She reached for a vial of a burnt orange liquid. Ash hopper jelly provided a sealant that both draws out infections and helps heal the wound. However, there was no bandages to keep it in place. Nova rummaged through her supplies and the only makeshift dressing was skeever hide. If used raw and untreated, it will speed up the process of death but when dried and cooked, it provides great patch work. Perfect for when you are hurt in a ruin crawling with the rodents. Nova took the skeever hide and let it cook carefully over the fire, making sure not to set it ablaze. After the process was done, the wounded and tired woman smeared the ash hopper jelly on the crude dressing. She took a deep breath and blanketed her lacerated back. It felt like molten iron was being poured on her skin. Too much pain to even scream. Too much to stay conscious.

When Nova awoke, she didn't know how much time had passed. The searing agony was toned down to a dull throb that was manageable. The Nord shivered and just realized the fire died out. Not a single smoldering coal was alive to offer any warmth. The only light source was from the moons which gave Nova a rough estimate of what time it was.

When she rolled over to the side, her back was still sticky with the primitive concoction. At least the smell from before dissipated, leaving a somewhat less affronting aroma than before. After standing up on her own, Nova struggled to make her way to the bedroom to inspect her wounds in the full length mirror. Heavy scarring was inevitable but better than the festering wounds as the infection seemed to be kept at bay. Same could be said with the swelling, easing the strain on the stitches.

Nova took one last look around the abandoned house before slamming the door shut. A shrill whistle pierced the night, summoning forth Shadowmere to her side. She opened up the bag to see massive jewel Mercer worked so hard for. A soft pink hue refracted the moonlight in a shimmering rainbow. She had no idea what to do with the ostentatious carved stone. No one short of royalty could even afford to touch it. Instead, she stuffed the few remaining vials on the opposite side of the saddle and rode off once again to find Ysolda.

The travel to Whiterun proved uneventful save for a sabrecat trying to make a meal out of her steed. The only thing it got to eat was a massive hoof to its face. The sun broke out over the horizon, blessing its light across the rocky plains. She was thankful for the demonic horse as any regular one would have been rode to the grave. The obsidian steed didn't even have haltered breath.

The pale Nord walked up to the gate wearing a dark grey cloak over less conspicuous clothing consisting of a deep, crimson dress and elbow length gloves that match. The guards let her pass without incident. Thankfully, they didn't know her as well as they did in the Haafingar region.

When the gates opened, she noticed ahead in the distance a trio of heavily armored men and two women. Leading them was the mutt who was laughing and punched one of the guys in the shoulder. Unsure of how the grey skin would react, she quickly but discretely hid behind near the blacksmith's forge that was simmering quietly. Nova held her breath, waiting until the troop moved past. The hidden Nord let out a light sigh of relief before stepping out onto the main cobblestone path. She barely made it to the steps of the Wind District before a metal hand grasped her shoulder. Nova knew who it was before turning to face the brooding elf, staring with contempt from his ruby red eyes. At least he was alone.

“What do you want, mutt?”

“If you are here then someone is going to get killed. I cannot permit that to happen. I don't care what kind of strange, unofficial deal we had, I will turn you in.”

Nova scoffed at the threat as she shook her shoulder free. “I am done with those affairs, not that it's any of your business. “

Arturius' brow furrowed with confusion. “What do you mean by done?”

“Just that. I left,” Nova replied curtly. “Now, if you don't mind, I got some personal shit to take care of or do you want to question me further?”

The lycan remained fixated but quiet for a few moments before speaking up. “I have a hard time believing you, Nova. When it comes down to it, you are a killer through and through. What other reason could the–”

“Ysolda, you numbskull. You haven't seen or smelled her at all lately?”

Arturius shook his head. “Nah. Can't say that I have. Speaking of smells though, you carrying some rotten meat around or something?” The look of disgust on his wrinkled nose wasn't subtle at all.

Nova didn't reply to his remark as she went about her way, hoping the damned grey skin would do the same. The Wind District was busy. Venders tried to entice customers with their wares, hoping for a sale on their cheaply made merchandise. Memories of Ysolda flood her, remembering when she first met the red haired temptress. Now, her kiosk belonged to some overweight and sweaty Imperial. Nova didn't acknowledge his existence as she entered the Bannered Mare.

The tavern smelled like it ought to. Patrons were enjoying their drinks, rather alone or with company. She was the one of the former and sat in a dark corner on a splintered table that could use love. It didn't take long for the Redguard waitress to ask what Nova wanted. The former assassin requested water for the time being. Being impaired wasn't advisable and needed her wits to be acute.

After a few hours of drunken ramblings and even a short lived brawl where a woman laid down a man for grabbing her ass. Other than that, nothing of interest. Instead of wasting more time, Nova sauntered over to where the blonde innkeeper was cleaning fruitlessly the permanent stains on the counter.

“Have you seen Ysolda?” she demanded with a stern voice.

The owner scowled at the rude mannerisms as she slung the holey rag on a shoulder. “I've not seen her in months. Now if you want something besides water, get it. Otherwise, quit wasting my time.”

Nova turned on her heels without muttering an instance. With the house being abandoned and Riften being closed off, Whiterun was the only place the white haired native could think of where Ysolda could be. Out of some sentiment of guilt, she left a few coins on the table before leaving the busy tavern.

The afternoon sun beamed down as the chilly north wind battled the little warmth it could provide. When she shivered, the wounds on her back stretched, making her flinch in pain. Fluid started to dribble down her back, indicating new dressing was needed. The temple was within eyesight as Nova marched her way there. The smell of gentle lavender greeted her nose the moment she opened the heavy, stone doors. Once again, she was reminded of the only love she had in her cold heart.

“You look pale,” a Nord priestess in yellow and orange robes stated. The cowl she wore showed a rather aged face that showed crow's feet near her eyes. “Are you ill?”

Nova quickly erased the scowl as she answered with a straight face. “My back.”

The priestess gave a simple nod as she directed her now patient to a hardened bed that felt more like a rock than a place of rest. Her smile was soft and caring, showing sympathy for the wounded woman. “My name is Danica Pure-Spring, a master of the school of Restoration. May I see what ails you so?”

Without a word, Nova faced away and lowered the back of her damp dress to expose the horrific mauling she endured. “Can you do anything or no?”

Danica was taken aghast by the foul, mephitic smell more so than the sight. “What in the name of Aetherius happened to you?!”

Nova repeated her question to which Danica agreed to try her best. The damage was severe, even for a master such as herself. The priestess informed Nova that it would take rest as well as magic to repair some of the damage but it would take weeks, possibly months to fix the muscle damage underneath the skin.

Nova drummed her fingers on her knee impatiently. “Just do what you can.”

Danica pulled back her hood. Her once luscious blonde hair was now weathered with hints of grey. She clasped her veined hands together, making them illuminate with gentle energy. The magic poured itself onto the torn flesh, willing it to pull itself together. The pain was excruciating, making Nova cry out.

“Hold still!” Danica ordered, trying to concentrate on the healing.

“I'm trying!” she seethed through grated teeth as her nails dug into her dress. The agony was almost as bad the punishment the cleric was trying to reverse. Almost at the edge of blacking out, Danica finally finished or at least, did all she was able to manage.

She was breathing heavily from the magical feat. “I was able to bind the lacerations on the surface but the muscles need tending to. There is still risk of infection so rest is needed,” Danica warned as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

Nova gave a grunt of appreciation before standing up. “How much do you I owe you?”

“However much you feel like giving, rather it's gold, service, or food.”

Nova palmed her several pieces of gold, more than what anyone else would do before turning to leave. However, the priestess rushed in front of her, stopping the still weary woman from leaving.

“Move,” she commanded, not caring what Danica had to state.

“You need to rest more than anything! Your body just went through a traumatic experience with what I did. I implore you to rest.”

“I'm fine!” the pale Nord growled as she shoved the priestess aside, almost making her fall down.

Nova wasn't to the door when she felt her body seize up, frozen against her will. She almost fell backwards onto the dirty stone floor when another priest of the temple caught her. After being gently placed on the ground, Nova saw the almost mournful expression on Danica's face.

“I am terribly sorry for having to do such an extreme act but your body needs rest.”

A paralyzing spell like the one the vampire cast on her but only affected extremities as breathing was still possible. It took two of them to carry the living but rigor Nord into the same bed as before. No matter how hard she struggled, Nova could not break free from the grip the spell had on her. Her eyes dilated with seething hatred when she looked up to see Danica cast a worried look down upon the Nord. With a glowing hand, she rested it on Nova's forehead and within seconds, was out like a candle.

“Rest well,” the cleric whispered.

* * *

The dreamland was Nova's least favorite place to visit. The only memories to visit were from her time in the Dark Brotherhood. At least, the only ones that seem to make sense. The only one was her flying in the sky, speaking some rough, coarse language she couldn't understand. The soft, white clouds were underneath her but then found herself on the ground right afterward. The clouds then turned black, raining fire from above. Fear gripped her tight as the fog in the brimstone sky swirled came twisting down, absorbing Nova into darkness. She choked and gasped, trying to claw her way out of the dense smoke but couldn't. Then the guttural laughter echoed her ears. Nova thought the laughter was from the fog but it was coming from her.

Nova snapped out of her unconscious state, jolted awake by what suddenly transpired in her sleep. Despite knowing it not being real, sweat dripped down her face and back. The chill indicated that everything was real. Before she could touch her feet to the ground, Danica approached the Nord she held hostage.

“Your fever finally broke,” she explained with a cheerful smile.

Her happiness was cut short as Nova grasped the woman by the collar; murderous fury poured from her eyes. “Don't ever do that to me again. I don't care if it was for my benefit; I will hurt you. Understand?” The priestess didn't say anything but gave a fearful nod. “Good.”

Nova released her grip on the archaic robes, throwing in a shove before storming out of the temple. The cold, night air welcomed her in shock from not realizing how long she was passed out. She didn't know the time but knew the gates were closed to the city. Due to the forced rest, she was wide awake, not something she was expecting. Waiting was tedious but figured the inn would be lively regardless of the moons being out. She tossed the hood over her damp, white hair before making her way to the Bannered Mare.

The same smell but different crowd welcomed her. Even the same table was empty, as if only she were allowed to sit there. The silent Nord slipped into the chair and before long, the Redguard waitress from before came by with an unpleasant look on her face but offered her a menu. Nova's famished stomach craved sustenance and ordered some bloody rare steak with potatoes. The server seemed surprised with joy at not having to fetch Nova water this time around.

As she tore into the late dinner with eager fervor, a conversation of interest piqued her ears. “I'm tellin' ya, the whole clan of thieves be dead!” came a timid voice of a young man, barely old enough to grow anything beyond peach fuzz.

A woman sitting across finished off her mug. “I call bullshit.”

“I'm tellin' ya, the whole town of Riften is shutdown. Some are sayin' it t'was the work of the Dark Brotherhood, even!”

“Doesn't help any that Markarth fell to those Forsworn savages not long after. Dragons now roaming the skies on top of the vampire raids. World is going to hell in a hand basket.”

Nova wasn't too surprised about the news of her actions reaching this far. Everywhere she went, death soon followed. Looking back, all that death was unnecessary with the guild. Who was going to appraise the giant gem that was stashed away in the saddle bag? If she was able to find a buyer, she would be set for several lifetimes. As much as Nova disliked the guild of thieves; this merciless act of slaughter was biting her in the ass. If she had kept them alive, she would not be in this predicament of trying to find her wife either.

After finishing her rather delicious meal, Nova approached the owner who had a more sunny disposition than before. “Need more food or perhaps a bed?”

“One night,” she requested, tossing down more coin than needed for both the room and meal.

“First room upstairs on the right,” she directed.

Nova made her way up the creaky, wooden stairs. Although not physically tired, the dreams left her mind restless and tired. She collapsed on the hay filled bed, thankful that the sheets were thick enough to avoid the itchy feeling. As her heavy eyes started to shut, the door almost came crashing down.

“By order of the Jarls from all the holds in Skyrim, you're under arrest for all the murders including the Emperor himself!”

Several guards formed a shield phalanx that only a charging mammoth could break through. Nova's eyes darted around the room, hoping for an escape of sorts. A caged rat she had become. Not wanting to experience what happened in Dragonreach, the killer surrendered without a fight. As they hauled her down the stairs in cuffs, murmurs whispered in the tavern. She paid no mind to what was being said until one voice spoke up. It instantly caught her attention.

“It was bad enough you killed Brynjolf,” Ysolda started to say with her voice cracking ever so slightly. “But when I found out about Ma'randu-Jo, I could not let that go.” Her eyes became misty with sorrow and hatred as she finished her statement. Nova was at a loss on what to feel. Rage was the first thing that came to mind as she hocked up a wad of thick phlegm and launched it at the scorned lover.

“After all I have done for you, you fucking cunt?! You would be selling second rate junk if it wasn't for me!”

Ysolda's mood shifted as she began to laugh, wiping the spit from her cheek. “My friends' lives were not worth it, Nova. My pain is not worth it. Ever running into you was not worth it.”

Nova didn't say anything as the guards pressed her forward out the door. The prisoner looked over her shoulder and wanted to scream at her. She wanted to make threatening promises but knew that would seal her fate in front of so many witnesses. Instead, she let out a maddened smirk that Cicero would be proud of before being dragged away.

 


	38. Slowly Goes the Night

The mist from the Sea of Ghosts sprayed the Companions, turning hair to icicles and coating their armor in a thin layer of ice. All except Arturius who still shivered, jealous over his Nordic company who sat comfortably. He fought off the cold by insulating his armor with the aura of fire magic.

Farkas let loose a heavy sigh. “How long as we doing this?”

“Are you serious?” Aela growled. “S'only been a day. If you don't wanna be here, ice-brain, go back home and make sure the underlings don't end up doing stupid things.”

Serana giggled, holding onto warming Arturius' hand. “Is she always like this?”

“She is very strong willed, yes,” he replied back while staring off into the forlorn sea. The fjord they situated themselves at was unforgiving. Behind them stood massive trees that seemed to stop the frigid north winds from leaving, redoubling the breeze to hit their backs. Still, Arturius braved the night air the only way he knew how.

He felt a hand rest on his pauldron, cold enough to even make Serana flinch. “What's bothering you?”

“You mean besides the weather?” the elf shivered.

“I do not believe the moons are full enough to force a transformation should you fall victim to the cold again.”

A laugh erupted from Vilkas as he overheard the conversation. “You had to rely on a lunar transformation there, Harbinger?”

“I drained the last of my magic that night,” Arturius surly responded. “Do I look like a Nord?”

“Too bad your lover there is dead or whatever. She could have kept you warm,” Vilkas jibbed, making Arturius' face turn a shade of red to make his jealous eyes.

The elf raised a middle finger, causing everyone to laugh, including Serana who took no offense by it. “Always so serious,” the playful vampire mocked, extending her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

As twilight turned to dusk, the troop waited from the dock where a few boats clattered together. The twins were arm wrestling while Arturius and Aela went hunting for some nearby game. Farkas won easily and flexed his arm in a showboating fashion.

“Need to step up your game, brother. Been drinking too much milk?”

“Least I can read and write my own name,” Vilkas fired back. “Besides, I would like to see your strength against mine when I shift.”

This time, the twins started to wrestle for real. Serana watched with amusement, thinking Farkas would win again. However, Vilkas was more methodical and planning, easily capturing Farkas in a headlock. Both of them fell onto the frozen ground, laughing with haggard breath.

Serana looked out into the direction of the woods, still not being able to sense the other two lycans. “They've been gone a long time,” she said with worried tone.

Farkas waved a hand of dismissal. “I wouldn't worry about the two of them. Nothing short of a dragon could best them. You should have seen the mammoth they took down that was big enough to feed all of Jorrvaskr for a week!”

That didn't bring any comfort and instead, wrought more anxiety. “Are they...close?”

“We're all close. We're family,” Farkas answered which made Vilkas roll his eyes.

“Aela has no interest in our Harbinger; that I can assure. She has a wild fire that Arturius cannot handle. How you managed to pry that chastity belt off him is beyond me. He had all sorts of women throwing himself but not once did he partake. You bedding him is a feat worthy of the gods themselves.” Vilkas hoped that would put Serana's mind at ease. A smile formed on her face, informing him that words did provide peace of mind.

It wasn't long until the two hunters emerged from the woods with a fairly large elk that had its feet tied up to a branch carried between them. They dropped the thick stalk, making the twins admire their well earned prize.

“We're going to have to eat it raw,” Aela warned. “Can't have any attention drawn to us with a fire.”

“Can we at least get a tent pitched,” Arturius groaned. The aura from his magic has waned considerably since frost had now taken root on his armor and his dark hair now turning white from the snow. “I don't want to have to go werewolf to stay alive.”

“Aye,” Vilkas agreed had he breathed into his stiff hands. “Even I am starting to feel the chill in my bones.”

With that suggestion, a tent was pitched up from the leathers and furs they brought along. The entrance of it was facing towards the Sea of Ghosts where the castle full of blood suckers _lived._ After the shelter was made, the labor was well rewarded as the Companions tore into the fresh elf that was still warm. Blood steamed before it froze onto the ground, blossoming the white snow, red. Serana almost lost her appetite from the gruesome display of ill mannerisms. Aela and Arturius argued over who got the heart but it was settled with a coin flip. The huntress moaned as she bit into it, gloating about how great it tasted. Arturius ignored it the best he could and chewed the hind quarters for the time being.

Before she could finish off her share, Serana paused as she stared off into the dark distance that shrouded the sea. “Someone is approaching the shore.”

In a flash, the werewolves were armed and ready. The waning half moons provided some light but not enough to see what Serana saw. After lying in wait, a small boat approached the frozen shore with a trio of vampires. Arturius and Aela gave each other a nod as they opened fire at the same time. The Nord's arrow pierced her target's heart, killing the blood sucker instantly. The bolt from the cross bow got his in the eye with enough force to break through the back of his skull. The last vampire, in a fit of panic, turned invisible through magic. The twins laughed as they charged in, cutting down the shade with little effort. Serana was amazed at everybody's battle prowess and how quickly they were able to dispatch the vampires. All within the space of someone holding their breath.

“Three down,” Farkas stated as he rested the gore stained greatsword on his back. “Few dozen or so to go.”

* * *

“You've done not only Whiterun a great service but all of Skyrim as well,” Jarl Balgruuf announced to the court under his ruling. The audience members clapped at such a joyous celebration. Despite the Dark Brotherhood being feared and renowned, capturing the leader would hopefully deal a deadly blow to the evil organization.

“I was just doing what I thought was best,” Ysolda humbly stated, throwing in a curtsy as well.

The jarl clapped in response, amused by what he heard. “No need to be modest. Come, enjoy the feast to celebrate a victory in these darkest of times.”

Ysolda partook in the delicacy of exotic fish from places she never heard of to fruits that could not grow in Skyrim's harsh and cold climate. The wine was sweet, complimenting the meat entrees and desserts quite well. The sweetrolls were filled with red jelly that had a combination of sweet and tart. She thanked the court for their chivalrous regale and took leave. Instead of heading down the steps away from the palace keep, Ysolda took off toward the side of the castle where the dungeon was. When she entered the musty and dark chambers, a pair of guards stood at attention. Ysolda requested to see a specific prisoner but were reluctant until she informed them she turn in the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. After frisking her for weapons, they permitted her request to see the prisoner.

The dungeon had a stale and moldy stench that burned Ysolda's nose when she walked in. After passing by cell after empty cell, she saw one that had thickened bars in a grid rather than the normal vertical ones. It was the only one to be occupied. Nova launched herself at the bars, reaching out with desperate hatred at the betrayer who put her in here. Her reach was only able to feel Ysolda's startled breath.

“The hell do you want?” Nova snarled as she rested her hands on the bars.

Ysolda took in a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. “Why? Why did you have to go so far as to kill one of my closest friends?”

Nova's grip tightened on the iron door, wishing she had the strength to tear it off the hinges and then rip her ex-lover's throat. “I didn't pick the targets; just business. You should ask those who hired me to do it.”

“But you knew the whole time!” Her temperament wavered as her eyes started to water up. “You didn't care about how it affected me!”

Nova scoffed at the absurd notion of compassion in her line of work towards her contracts. “You knew I deal in death...But to go this far though. The Dark Brotherhood will see to your death.”

Unexpectedly, Ysolda let out a rough laugh, amused by what she just heard. “You ran away from the Dark Brotherhood after you lost your position as Listener.”

Nova's cold, blue eyes flared with shocked and her heart skipped a few beats. “How do y–”

An eerie chuckle emanated from the shadows, echoing across the walls of the dungeon. “How the mighty have fallen.”

“Caius...” Nova seethed as she watched the figure emerge from the darkness.

“Oh, come on; are you really _that_ surprised? I sure was when your pretty wife here showed up. When we got to talking, the two of us realized we were on the same page.” She looked up to see the sneering Caius mocking her, smiling in a way that would make Cicero proud.

Nova turned her back on the cell grid, balling her fists up with rage as her entire world came crashing down. She wasn't sure what was worse: being betrayed by Ysolda or Astrid. With her former leader, she made Nova the woman she is today. Cold, calculating, ruthless. Not to mention, gave her a purpose, an identity. A life that was worth living and killing for. But Ysolda...She gave her a light and love. A heart filled with passion that wasn't bloody. A part of herself that found the better part of her nature that wasn't corrupt. The warmth of love wasn't easy to come by in the lifestyle she had. Astrid may have almost destroyed the Dark Brotherhood but still, Nova prevailed and made her stronger. Ysolda however, there was no silver lining. She knew who did worse.

“When I get out of here, I swear the both of you will beg for death before I am through.” Nova rested her face on the bars, her glare alone showed it was a promise, not a threat.

Ysolda shook her head. “With as much pain as you put me through, you deserve to be in here till you die.”

“Pain?” Nova scoffed. “What you know about pain is an word you barely know the meaning of, Ysolda. When I get out of here though, I will teach you first hand some lessons.”

Caius launched a small jet of fire, more so for intimidation than to hurt, making Nova jump back. “Now, now ladies. We can discuss that later. Just be happy you gave your cunt wife her just dues and get the hell outta here. It's clammy and smells like shit. And I don't mean the dungeon.”

“And where do you plan on going, Ysolda?” she demanded. “Going back to the cats or staying close to Whiterun to keep a close eye on me?”

“Actually,” Ysolda stated with a grim smile. “You already took all my friends away from me. Caius said he was interested in me joining so I guess that is where I will go.”

Nova almost doubled over laughing at the thought of someone as fragile as Ysolda, both physically and mentally, being an assassin. She barely knew how to hold a weapon or shoot a bow. Magic was out of the question even more so. “You're not made for that line of work. We both know it.”

Ysolda brushed her copper hair behind her ears. “I've made my choice in the matter.”

“Walk away from this before you regret it,” Nova warned. “You do not want to go down this path.”

Ysolda started laughing at the precaution. “And why would you out of everyone have any concern for me? You just said moments ago how you were going to kill me when you get out.”

“Exactly,” Nova expressed with fury in her voice. “You would end up getting yourself killed before I get the chance to do so.”

Caius procured a sharp blade from his sleeve. Nova saw the faint shimmer and before she could utter a sound, the dagger was plunged deep into Ysolda's back, piercing her spine. The only sound being made was the blood dripping down on the cracked, stone floor. Ysolda's face was frozen for a second before relaxing in a veil of death.

Caius smiled wickedly as he watched the body crumple to the floor. “I always hated the easy kills. No challenge.” The mage then wiped off the bloody dagger on the corpse of Nova's ex-lover.

“That was my kill, you bastard!” Nova shouted as she rattled the cage door like a wild animal.

Caius knew she would be more upset about stealing her prized kill rather than her ex-wife's death. “Exactly. I've taken the last thing in this world of yours. You have nothing now. Not your family, not your lover, not even your revenge. I should just kill you right now but keeping you alive is worse punishment. You're going to rot here until your head rolls off the executioner's block.” Caius turned around and whistled a tune as he left his victory at that.

Nova didn't say anything as she stared down at the body before her. Her fate was too merciful, too quick. It should have been done by her hands but Caius, once again, relished in the former Listener's misery. Nova spit on the corpse and collapsed on her bed, knowing full well she would probably be blamed for her death. What's another body to the count when you're already serving a death sentence?

* * *

The night was young and filled with blood. Farkas cleaved a charging vampire in half from head to groin. Blood that was more coagulation than fluid dropped from his sword, sticking in frozen clumps onto the fetid ground. The rag he used was torn in ribbons and had to rely more on his fingernails to chip away at the solidified chunks. He looked up at the moons that left only a silver of white in the night sky.

“Didn't think it was going to be this easy; no offense.”

Serana shrugged as she looked at the mutilated member of her father's court. She didn't know who it was nor did it matter. The sentiment was the same for them all. “They're nothing to me.”

The fellow Nord gave a somber expression as he inspected his blade. There was still some streaks of blood but wasn't going to get any cleaner. “Guess it's better than feeling guilty.”

Arturius and Vilkas were patrolling the fjord, making sure no other boats found their way onto land. Aela was snoozing in the tent, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. With the moons being more shadow than light, the huntress didn't have the thrill of battle coursing through her veins. It was one of the few times she could get some solid rest as well.

Serana's ears picked up on heavy patter of wolves heading in the direction of the camp. The great, white werewolf that was Arturius stood a little smaller than his black counterpart. However, he was a bit faster since the elf was able to transform back and was halfway through putting on his gear by the time Vilkas showed up. Arturius was shivering, making getting suited up a chore. Despite the head start, Vilkas had already donned his armor.

The clanking of armor disturbed the sleeping huntress who woke up in a fit. “Only a pair of days out of the month where I get decent sleep and you two dunderheads manage to screw that up for me.”

“Oh, lighten up,” Farkas said in a somewhat joking manner. “How did you manage to snore through me splitting open a blood sucker then?”

Aela replied with a mumble under her breath before she dragged her tired body off into the woods for something to hunt. Serana gave Arturius a hug despite her body not providing any warmth. “Anything interesting happen?”

“Scuttled a boat we saw. Waited a few hours but no one returned. Other than that, pretty quiet.” Arturius looked at the gruesome scene with disgust and awe. “Looks like you've been having fun, Farkas.”

The grey eyed twin chuckled. “Getting pretty boring actually. You would think they would send out more than just a handful of vampires after weeks of others not returning.”

Arturius shrugged as he threw on the fur hood from his cloak to keep his pointed ears warm. “Not sure how long this will be but we will endure.”

Dawn started to break when Aela returned with a rather small deer that she was able to haul herself. Arturius sighed upon seeing the heart had already been ripped out but said nothing on the subject. Serana graciously took the liver and retreated into the tent to hide from the approaching dawn. Farkas was ready to the same as being human once again made him tired in a normal way. Aela made a snide remark about him not needing to sleep as much if he were moonborn.

The three lycans sat in makeshift chairs made of logs, playing cards to pass the time. Vilkas was winning the pot of septims, causing Arturius to respond in kind by kicking his chair out from under him. A playful brawl broke out, amusing Aela as she cheered them on. Neither one could fain advantage and called it quits.

A blast of bitter cold rose up from the Sea of Ghosts once again, forcing Arturius to build a campfire to help banish the goosebumps invading his skin. When the wind changed direction, the smell of smoke was replaced with something that caught the attention of all three of the lycans.

“We got company,” Aela sniffed, checking to see if the redolence was getting stronger or weaker.

Arturius' heart almost seized in his chest as he gripped his sword with anxiety. “It's the Dawnguard.”

“Those milk drinkers you left us for?” Aela snorted.

“Ever the charmer,” Arturius replied.

All three of the lycans stood their ground, lying in wait for the hunters to appear. Over the hill in the distance, Isran appeared with his ever so arrogant stride. The rest of the band followed suit behind their leader, armed to the teeth with axes, spears, and thick shields to make a phalanx. As they marched closer, Arturius took notice of a figure in black being nearly dragged in chains.

Isran approached the Dunmer, sizing one another up despite the Redguard being a good head shorter. “What are you doing here, traitor?” he demanded.

“Doing what you should have been doing weeks ago,” Arturius answered back with sarcastic persiflage.

“Only had to fuck a vampire to do so,” Celann roused, making a few warriors of the Dawnguard within earshot giggle.

Aela rolled her eyes. “You look like the type of Breton that could fall into a sack of tits and still come out sucking your thumb.”

“You little bitch!” Celann roared as he stood toe to toe with the smirking huntress. She bared her fangs, letting loose an animalistic growl that made the angry hunter feeble. Before a fight could ensure, an ear piercing cacophonous whistle erupted from Vilkas, silencing everyone.

“Why in Oblivion are we fighting? You lot are all vampire hunters, right?” He pointed to the pile of mangled bodies that were butchered or burned, only recognizable by their shape. “That is exactly what we have been doing the last couple of weeks now.”

Celann shook his head. “That's besides the poi–”

“Quiet,” Isran ordered before addressing the Companions, mainly Arturius. “You still with that vampire?”

Arturius bit his lip, afraid of being judged but realized he was no longer Dawnguard. He gave a nod. Isran scoffed before he pulled out his warhammer. The Companions were ready to aid in their Harbinger's defense but instead, the heavy weapon crushed the skull of the bound figure in black.

“Guess we won't be needing that blood sucker for information anymore.”

Arturius cleared his throat before speaking. “Putting bullshit aside, what's your plan of action?”

“Not your concern, vampire lover,” the bald Redguard leader stated coldly before shugging the warhammer onto his back.

“Really, Isran? We're on the same side and you still go around like you think you know everything.”

“I don't want nor need help from you nor your kind over there,” Isran spouted with disgust, stating how they are almost as bad as vampires but more wild animals than an organized group.

As tensions rode high, Serana emerged from the tent. A hush of silence ran through the hunters as they stared at the vampire. “So you plan on storming the castle? Good luck trying to break through a fifty foot gate that cannot be opened from the outside.” The entire troop stiffened up as she approached, a smirk of amusement forming on her mouth.

“And sitting out here for the last few weeks is doing what exactly?”

Aela fielded the question first. “Everyone needs food, rather living or undead. Wars are won by those who can keep their stomachs full.”

Isran stroked his beard, giving her a look of admiration. “You came up with this plan?”

“Nope. That person you call traitor did.”

The disgruntled Redguard looked over at the elf and inhaled sharply through his nose. “Guess I underestimated you. Not as useless as previously thought.”

Arturius took that as close to a compliment as he was going to receive and nodded. “Would not be possible without Serana here.” He hoped that with those words, Isran could see past the hatred of all vampires and see that even one could be good.

“Maybe when this is all over, I won't consider hunting it down.”

“Same to you,” Serana said with a devilish grin.

With their differences somewhat settled, the two leaders sat down to formulate a plan of action. With Serana's knowledge on the lay out of the castle grounds, she was able to point out where the archer's towers could rain down arrows, where they bred death hounds that make the most rabid wolves look like bunnies, and other defenses to be used.

Arturius and Isran settled on a contrivance and briefed both sides. The sun started to fall into the horizon, stalling their plan of action until morning. Plus the vampire hunters needed rest from their long march from Riften to the western shores of the Sea of Ghosts. As everyone set up camp, Serana was looking out into the hidden castle masked by a cloak of fog. Even with her night vision, she could not see very far into the brume. A shiver escaped her.

“I thought your ilk doesn't get cold?” Isran asked with disgust in his voice.

“That fog isn't natural,” Serana pointed out with unblinking focus, ignoring his revulsion.

Isran squinted into the the miasma, not understanding what the vampire meant by that. “How do you figure?”

“A fog creeps around gently. This one is...I don't know.” Serana sighed heavily, tapping her pointed fingernails on her teeth. “It feels like it's been conjured.”

“A cover for attack?”

Serana kept her gaze fixated on the billowing tide of darkness. “There's no boats that I can see though.”

Arturius approached the two, wondering what they were talking about and shocked one hasn't tried to kill the other. It seemed the temporary allies were getting along for now. “Everything okay?”

“The blood sucker says that fog is being used for cover. I feel it's correct.”

Serana ignored the jab of being called an 'it' as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You sense anything?”

Despite sniffing the air a few times, all he could gather was sweaty warriors and frozen corpses. However, there was something that caught his attention, despite how faint it was. Sea soaked wood.

“Well?” Isran asked with impatience in the matter.

“There's something. Boats I believe but that's just it. Nothing else in them. Just the boats.”

The Companions and Dawnguard stood prepared for the incoming invasion on the shore line. A frigid blast from the sea dampened the hunters and warriors, causing several of them to shiver. The dense fog approached, slithering from its water bound home onto the land. Serana could hear the quickened heartbeats of everyone around her. The lycans and a few Dawnguard from excitement and the rest from fear. Soon after the fog swallowed up the encampment, a clatter of boats washed up on the shore. They were empty.

“Nothing here,” Farkas said with a confused tone.

Everyone prepared themselves for the ambush that was to come. The smell of salt from sweat even began to overcome that from the sea itself. It was silent, save for the howling gusts of wind. No one dared move or speak. The tension was thicker than the blinding atmosphere itself.

Arturius shifted nervously, keeping his senses acute. The smell of blood then wafted his nose. Not just blood but their insides as well. Someone got tore apart with barely a sound noise to give away its direction. “Serana,” he harshly whispered. “Do you see anything?”

Before she could answer, Celann called out in panic. “Vampires!”

At that moment, all hell broke loose. The night, in combination with the mist, provided cover for the creatures. They were able to attack anything with a heart beat. Arturius caught

a glimpse of someone behind Aela that was ready to pounce. Arturius charged swiftly, making his aim be true. The Dawnbreaker stuck deep inside the vampire's chest. Unable to pull it out due to the ribs catching it, the sword glowed brightly and the creature burst into flames. The moment that happened, the enchanted blade was free. Aela returned the favor as she launched a barrage of arrows into a pair of undead that charged out of the water.

“Kill them all!” a vampire shouted before getting her head lopped off gruesomely by Vilkas' flamberge.

Isran was surrounded by a trio of fangs. Knowing that his warhammer would be too slow to take on all three, he went with a more magical approach. He summoned forth an aura of light that kept the blood drinkers at bay, hissing at the holy light swirling around him. Celann took one by surprise with a swing down stroke of his ax that split her skull in half while Isran crushed the chest of the other, turning bone into jelly. The last one tried to scamper away in a desperate bid to escape. A shot from Celann's crossbow saw an end to that.

Serana was weaving lightning to drive back some of the raiding party. A bolt shot a hole through one of her father's court members, wishing it was him. She charged up another shot and blasted another one to ash fast enough to not even catch him on fire. A choked howl from behind her made Serana witness a Dawnguard man getting his throat ripped out savagely. Although there was nothing that could be done to save him, she still acted quickly to dispatch the fellow vampire.

The carnage was short lived despite the brutality of it all. The fog lifted and showed the horrors in the aftermath of the battle. Blood and gore drenched the ground, turning the shoreline's waters red. A young man, barely old enough to have peach fuzz on his face was torn limb from limb, leaving a torso with only an arm that was barely attached. Another victim was beheaded with her head nowhere close enough to see who it was.

Serana noticed something else in the air. Deep, pulsating hearts that were anxious. Excited. Nothing out of fear but thrill. Her attention and focus shifted over to the Companions who stood uneasily among the bodies. All except for Farkas. The only human of them. Now it made sense as to why they sounded so different. Serana didn't say anything though as she looked around to see burials being prepared and last rights given by one of the surviving Vigilants. The bodies of the Dawnguard were given proper rest while vampires were piled like firewood and treated as such when they burned.

Serana stared out into the sea, her teeth clenched tight. “This ends tomorrow, Father.”

 


	39. The Lost and the Damned

The dungeon had a nip in the air, enough to see one's breath. Rather for torture or just forgotten, Nova was without a blanket. The only way to keep warm was through her clothes. They were rough spun garments that she didn't think could be worse than the ones she had in Markarth. These were too small yet in other areas, too loose. Next to the bed was a bucket that was two bathroom breaks from being overfull. Nova wasn't sure how many days have passed.

She kept looking over at the floor where the stain of Ysolda's blood still lingered about. The kill that Caius stole from her. No one steals from her, especially something that personal. The only problem was getting out of the dungeon. There were always a pair of guards keeping watch. Sometimes a trio but never one. Even though they were outside of her sight, she could hear them talking. Only one dared to step in front of the cell and that was to deliver the 'food'. A starving dog would turn it down.

Despite all the torment and alienation, Nova kept her wits about her. She kept her mind focused on revenge, using hatred as the burning desire to not give up. Her body was kept well in tune every day. Even though the food tasted like shit warmed up, it still provided enough to keep her energy for her physical work outs to keep her body and mind toned. The only solace to her sanity of being lonesome though was a small rat. At first, she was angry the pest stole some of her gruel but with each passing day, it was a welcome guest.

“On your feet, assassin,” commanded the female guard who gives her the grotesque garbage passed off as food.

Nova smirked, staring at the dark haired woman with piercing green eyes. She tossed the prisoner two pairs of cuffs, one for her wrists and the other for her ankles. After slapping them on, the ever cautious guard made sure they were secure. For the first time since being incarcerated, Nova left her cell. The scowling guard went the extra mile and fastened a collar around her neck as well with a body length chain for added measure.

“You try anything,” the sentry warned, giving the tether a hard tug. “And you won't be able to beg for breath. Understand?”

Nova gave an unexpected grin in response. “At least buy me some dinner before getting kinky with me.” That warranted a hard punch to the stomach but Nova laughed between gasps.

“Shut up and move.”

“The great doors opened up to the palace of Dragonreach as Nova was shoved in the middle of the court where a horseshoe of tables surrounded her. Several jarls from nearly every providence of Skyrim and nobles stood at attention, staring at the assassin in rags and chains. Mutters of discontent and threats echoed the chambers.

Near the crown was Jarl Balgruuf. Tall yet lanky, he seemed to pose confidence within himself and others. He called for silence before addressing Nova. “This court has been summoned to judge this woman for capital crimes of Skyrim including murder and treason. Since they were committed in all the holds, each Jarl will have their say on what to do with the accused. The only ones who are not present is Jarl Igmund due to the Forsworn rebellion taking place and Ulfric for obvious reasons.”

“Murder and treason, huh?” Nova chuckled. “Tell me, why am I being accused of these crimes?”

“You are Dark Brotherhood!” Jarl Balgruuf snapped, answering the obvious question. “You ha–“

“Based on what evidence?” Nova interrupted, not caring how insulting it may be.

The way his blonde eyebrows twitched at the ill mannered behavior almost made Nova giggle. “You deny being involved with them?” he demanded in a rough voice.

“Correct. I am not with them. Can I go now?”

“There are reports of a woman fitting your description linked to several events dealing with the Dark Brotherhood. The murder of Vittoria Vici, cousin of Emperor Tidus Mede II who was also slain by your hand. Commander Maro who said he personally met with the likes of you before you escaped.”

“And where is he know?” Nova challenged, knowing that he was a bloated corpse by the time he was found.

“Dead, after you killed him,” came the dainty voice of the High Queen. “The same day you murdered the Emperor.”

“So you say I killed all these people but the only ones who witnessed such a thing are dead? That's real convincing.” The sarcasm was palatable as she spoke, knowing that they had hardly any proof of her crimes. “Who's to say it's not any of you who did such awful things and are merely looking for a scape goat?”

“There was a lone survivor on the ship where Emperor Tidus Mede II was killed. A vampire with glowing orange eyes butchered her way through the crew. White hair just like yours even and even a dagger we found in your possession that matched the slash marks on his collar when you slit his throat!”

Of all the times to be spiteful for Arazel curing her of being a vampire, this proved the most beneficial and nearly made Nova fall over from how lucky she was. Was this the reason the elf cured her? Didn't matter as Nova smiled wickedly at the accusation before her.

“A vampire with orange eyes? Not only are my eyes blue, thank you very much, but I am as human as the rest of you.” As she lifted her hands up, she showed her normal, albeit stained teeth; not fangs. “If I were a vampire, would I not be dead already from lack of blood?”

A harsh silence cascaded over the court as everyone was stunned from all the holes the accused had found. Weeks of preparation and testimony thrown out the window after five minutes. Then the arguments started between the leaders, ending in a brawl between housecarls defending their master's honor. Several guards rushed to restore but the duty bound one who held Nova's chains remained stoic. When Nova looked over her shoulder, the warden's nostrils flared like a bull's.

When order started to settle, all focus was put back on the accused who sighed heavily. “Can I go now or what?”

Jarl Balgruuf slammed his fist on the table, rattling plates and even knocked over a goblet. “Two weeks gathering testimony and setting up this court. For what? Circumstantial evidence? For the Nine Divine's sake, we got someone saying a vampire did it. Does she look like a damned vampire?!”

“But her white hair!” cried out Jarl Laila of Riften as she stood up from her chair.

“Are you daft, woman!? Women of the Grey-Mane clan have hair just like hers! Want to send their necks to meet the headman's axe?”

Another shouting match ensued, making Nova laugh inside her head. This was all too easy. Once you have them turn on each other, the rest came naturally. They did all the work for her. Before things could get out of hand once more, a loud clap of thunder echoed the halls.

A mage in blue robes approached the center of the stunned and silenced court. “If I may have your attention,” he said in a cool and collected voice.

“What is it, Farengar?” Balgruuf sighed.

“I may have a solution to your dilemma.” The mystic raised a hand up, moving his fingers around until a swirl of blue energy gathered into a ball. “This spell will tell us the inner workings of the alleged one's mind to see if she truly is guilty or not.”

Victory was so close, Nova could almost taste it. It was dangling in front of her, tantalizing her with freedom only to be snatched away. She knew nothing of magic or how to resist it. When all the jarl's agreed, the wizard stepped in front of Nova whose heart was seized in her chest. The sphere of sapphire light was lifted above Nova's head and gently dropped down. She closed her eyes tightly, wincing for what may happen. After waiting for a few moments, nothing was felt. Carefully, she opened up her eyes, not sensing anything different.

Mage Farengar looked at the confused woman. “Are you guilty of the crimes you are accused of?”

Nova smiled and went to say the same thing as before. Instead, her mouth didn't give the answer her head wanted. “Indeed so. I killed the emperor and his cousin, as well as the one who hired me to kill them.” Everyone gasped at the revelation they heard, making Nova's face redden with embarrassment. “Ah, shit.”

It didn't take long soon after to confess but it did take a while once she started listing her contracts and unprovoked kills. In the end, her body tally ended up being twenty-nine plus however many she could not remember. Nova gripped her restraints tight, furious over how close she was within reach, but savagely torn away.

Jarl Balgruuf cleared his throat as he stared down at the assassin. “Is there anything you want to say before we pass judgment?”

Nova looked around at all the abhorrent glares from all the jarls of Skyrim. “Instead of going after me, you should be looking at the people you rule over. They are the ones who have hired me. Remember that.”

“If that is all, I think can safely speak for us all when I carry down this sentence.” Nova didn't stop grinning as she heard the word that has been following her the whole time she could remember.

“Death.”

* * *

“Told you there was no way through the gate,” Serana exclaimed as the troop looked up at the daunting barrier.

It stood almost as tall as the castle itself, proving impossible to lift as well as the bars being thicker than that of a mammoth's tusk. However, age as taken its toll as Serana noticed heavy rust from the salty air. She ran her soft fingers across the abrasive and defunct metal. An idea came to mind as she placed an icy hand on an intersection of the gridded barrier. When it was fully encased in a brick of frost, she instructed Isran to hit.

Figuring he had nothing to lose, the leader of the Dawnguard brought the heavy warhammer down into the frostbitten gate. The ice cracked as well as the gate. After several hits, the intersection gave way, providing a small victory of moral within everyone. At least, until Vilkas spoke up.

“Well then...Only a dozen or so left to go.”

“You wanna try?” Isran growled as he threw his favored weapon to the mocking lycan.

To the Dawnguard warriors' surprise, Vilkas caught it with one hand. “Has some weight to it,” he complimented.

When Serana finished enveloping another section off, everyone stood back as the hammer was lifted in the air and brought down with a thunderous fury, smashing through with one solid hit. Isran grumbled as everyone watched to see the two of them make short work of the gate.

“Here you go.” Vilkas tossed the hammer back to Isran, smiling smugly at his handiwork. The hole was big enough to where Arturius didn't have to duck his head when he passed through.

“Be on guard,” Arturius warned, drawing out his glowing sword.

“Let's go kill some blood suckers!” Farkas shouted with battle fever, causing a few of the Dawnguard to get riled up as well.

When they entered the castle, it wasn't as expected. It looked to be abandoned. Dust and cobwebs laid about with no sign or life or rather, unlife for that matter. As they moved in more, a massive and bloody mess hall greeted them from the balcony. Body parts of various races were strewn about on the tables with an egress on the floor where a pool of blood sat.

“They're hiding.” Aela hypothesized as she sniffed the air. “There's too much blood to know where.”

Farkas groaned with irritation. “I wanted to fight; not play hide and seek.”

“Think of it as hunting,” Aela encouraged as she pulled out the divine bow Arturius entrusted with her.

The balcony split into two paths with stairs on each side. The Companions and the vampire took one side while the Dawnguard took the other. Before Farkas could reach the bottom step, he felt a hard tug on his hair, causing him to yelp in surprise. When he turned around, he saw Serana pointing a bony finger at the floor. When he looked, he saw a faint glyph.

“What is that?”

“If you would have stepped on that rune, you would have been blown to hell,” Serana informed casually.

Vilkas' eyes widened as he turned around to shout at the hunters on the other side of the balustrade. It was too late. A large explosion of lightning exploded, chaining itself through the Dawnguard, vaporizing those closest to the blast. Other that were unfortunate enough to survive suffered burns that charred their limbs to the bone. With that being a signal, half a dozen vampires leapt down from the cathedral ceiling like spiders to their prey. The lycans jumped into the fray, tearing apart anyone with glowing eyes. Vilkas' arm was torn up but only superficially as he cleaved through one of the blood suckers. Aela's targets were set ablaze from her divine imbued bow. When the last one fell, Arturius looked over with grief at the lives lost. A familiar axe laid on the ground next to a pile of blood soaked ash, the very same axe Celann used.

“I am going to kill every last damn one of them,” Arturius vowed as wolfish rage built up inside.

“Cool your blood, brother,” Vilkas advised. “Charging in is exactly what they want.”

The rest of the survivors came down from the height of the stairs. In the middle of the room, those that knew healing did their best to suture the wounds of those injured. Some were too far gone and could only delay death for a few minutes. Morale was forsaken as only the strongest few kept their fortitude.

Serana felt uneasy as she glanced around the horror struck dining hall. Something was off. Although quite a few people died, there should have been more. Her thoughts were shattered as the massive doors that lead into the feasting hall burst open. Vampires and their thralls charged in from all sides, effectively surrounding the hunters. However, they all fell like wheat to the scythe until a grotesque creature with wings returned the favor. Its skin was as tough as stone and its face was the thing of nightmares with claws to match. With one swing, it tore someone in half, splattering entrails on her comrades. Isran bellowed a war cry and smashed the gargoyles head in, causing the rest to fall to pieces.

Even though the vampires were getting slaughtered, their numbers never seemed to dwindle. The living ones though had lost nearly half their strength from the magical trap alone and weren't sure how long they would last from the constant onslaught. Isran and Mogrul were back to back, dispatching anyone with bloodthirsty claws or those enthralled by them.

Serana was holding off a group on her own, using the most powerful magic she could muster. A blizzard escaped her hands that dropped the temperature of everything in front of her to near absolute zero, turning her fellow vampires into ice sculptures. With a snap of her fingers, they were turned to diamond dust. Arturius was right next to her, contrasting her methods with fire. Each slash of the Dawnbreaker incinerated a night creature to ash. The elf threw his shield like a discus, knocking over several vampires. With his other hand now free, an inferno burst forth, leaving scorched ruins in its wake.

“Where the hell is your father?!” Arturius demanded, sweating from both effort and heat as he rushed forth to collect his shield.

“Right here,” came a deep and dark voice. Out on the ledge that hung above the room of slaughter stood a man whose physical appearance matched his voice. His hair was slicked back like a raven's wing and eyes that glowed a menacing orange. Around him was a pair of gargoyle brutes that sat obediently by their master's side along with several more of the clan. They looked different, more distinguished as if they were fighting pawns previously.

His pupiless eyes fixed onto Serana. “Oh Serana, my daughter...How I see your mother's influence poisoned you.”

Serana shook her head. “I am not your daughter. Not since you have been willing to kill me to further your agenda!”

Harkon shrugged, not affected by her words. “It's for the benefit of all involved. Needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”

“You are talking about a war against the world!” Serana shouted with tears in her eyes.

“A world that will bow to me,” he replied coldly. “And with the bow that mongrel is holding, I plan on doing exactly that.”

Aela stepped forward, notching an arrow in the bow. “You want it?” The huntress pulled back on the drawstring and aimed for the bastard's heart. “Here you go!”

She let loose the projectile, the arrow shimmering with divine power as it soared straight for Harkon's cold, dead, heart. He caught it with little effort but seethed as he dropped the arrow. “That stung, dog. I will give you points for trying though. A quick death for you as a favor of impressing me.”

He snapped his fingers and the rest of his entourage jumped down to lay waste to the intruders. Vilkas squared off against one of the gargoyles, grinning with battle fever at the challenge. Everything around him was forgotten as the two tangled up. Although it was black as midnight, it shimmered like glass. His heavy sword could only manage to chip away at the beast, despite his heaviest blows. Its onyx black skin was made of something entirely different than the rocky ones from before. And its claws were sharp enough to cleanly sever strands of his hair without feeling it. One glancing blow off his sword left abrasions that almost carved it in half.

“I might actually have to put forth effort,” Vilkas prattled.

The gargoyle charged forth recklessly with its gaping maw ready to chew on any flesh it could clamp down on. Instead, the tip of the blade was shoved in deep, the force doubled from its momentum and from the thrust on the hilt end. The flamberge struck through, piercing the stone construct's head, The magic that animated it ceased as it reverted in a statue before crumbling to a pile of shattered rock.

Arturius wasn't faring well against these more experienced vampires. He was only managing to survive. A spell of lightning arced toward him but was able to block it with his shield. Due to the metal armor though, it conducted through his body, knocking him straight to the ground. The other gargoyle took advantage and leapt on top of the dazed elf. Struggling with effort, Arturius swung his sword weakly at the construct. The glowing blade was swatted from his hand, landing out of reach. As its claws came cascading down, Farkas lunged his sword into the stone beast. The metal vibrated painfully in his hands as he kept splintering off pieces. A pain suddenly erupted in his back and chest. When he looked down, a lance of ice perforated him. Arturius screamed his name, catching the attention of the rest of the Companions. They watched as their shield-brother fell to his knees, collapsing onto the ground.

Aela cradled his head, tears falling down onto Farkas' cheeks. “Don't you die on me, ice brain. You're not allowed!”

Farkas coughed haggardly as blood started to erupt from his mouth and nose. He looked up at his three loved ones with foggy eyes, smiling ever so softly. “It's n-not so b-bad. I got to k-k-kill one of each creature.”

“Don't be giving us a death speech, brother,” Vilkas demanded, holding his twin's weakening grip.

“I guess I w-won't be s-s-seeing you all in...in Sovngarde.” Farkas gasped his last breath, before the mortal coil was severed.

Vilkas was stunned, Arturius was grieving, but Aela was furious when she looked up to see a sneering Harkon. He was conjuring up another spear of ice when the red haired huntress charged at the royal vampire. With each step, she was shifting more into the beast inside. Harkon launched the frozen skewer but she dodged it with ease and tackled the monster. As she brought down her razor sharp claws down to eviscerate the vampire, he grabbed Aela by the throat and tossed her effortlessly to the side.

Harkon stood up, dusting himself off. “You're not the only one who can transform.”

With an earth shattering roar that stunned both friend and foe alike, he caught the attention of everyone. Wings shot out of his back as his skin turned a shade of ashy blue. Orange eyes now brimstone red and claws that outmatched the great huntress' by a margin.

“Behold; true power!”

Aela snarled before launching herself at the true vampire lord with burning hatred. Their talons were locked together, trying to overpower the other. Harkon's strength in his human form was enough to give Aela in her beast form a challenge. Now, with him showing his true strength, he easily brought the lycan down on her knees.

“Just a mindless beast, aren't you?” he mocked. “Begone!”

Harkon lifted up the werewolf and flung her across the room, making her yelp upon impact. Vilkas grabbed his brother's sword in one hand with his own in the other, dual wielding two impossibly large blades. Fury and bloodlust unbound didn't care. He charged in after Harkon, becoming a whirlwind of steel. Harkon easily evaded the blinding slashes that could tear through a small army with bloody ease. Rapid madness took over as he strained his arm's muscles to the limits as he kept hacking away at Harkon but only managed to hit air. When he took too long to bring down his twin's blade, the vampire lord grabbed hold of both his wrists and twisted, making the warrior drop the weapons. Vilkas managed to wrestle free from his death grasp and in a fit of desperation, threw a metal fist into the ugly face of Harkon.

The vampire shrugged it off and returned the blow, using more force than necessary. Vilkas's head bounced off the ground but didn't know him out. As he attempted to slay the pathetic sight before him, his claws met a steel shield and behind it was a rather large elf.

“Do you think you can do better than the others?” he mocked.

“You will find me much more challenging,” Arturius swore, as he took a defensive position behind his trusted shield.

“How about testing yourself against someone more your feeble size,” he suggested with a foul grin emerging on his face.

Arturius didn't know what he meant by that nor cared. He rushed forward to strike at the vampire but sword clanged against the steel of a flamberge. In its grip was Farkas or rather, his body. Arturius was shocked more so than anything as he looked at his friend's dead eyes. “You bastard...”

His chest was still carrying the ice spear in his chest, making him more clumsy. However, the unholy magic coursing through him still gave a challenge. Arturius was too guilt ridden to strike down the reanimated corpse despite knowing full well that's what has to be done. Despite seeing an opening, he didn't take it.

Trying to take the Dumner by surprise, Harkon stalked forward, weaving ice into a large spike. It soared through the air and smashed into the shield, making Arturius stumble back. A good few inches of the tip pierced through, narrowly missing his face from being skewered. The Dunmer tossed his shield to the side, relying on sword and spell instead.

Knowing he cannot take on two opponents like this, Arturius made the heavy hearted decision as he looked at Farkas' lifeless body. As the Nord lifted his greatsword into the air, the elf thrust the Dawnbreaker deep inside his stomach. The blade pulsated, glowing ever brightly as it dispelled the magic invigorating Farkas. Arturius could have sworn there was some relief in his soulless eyes before he started to fall.

Before Farkas could tumble on the blood soaked floor, Harkon still went on the offensive, closing the distance between them. His claws raked across the steel plate, tearing it like wet paper. His chest felt wet and on fire. Blood oozed through the claw marks, dripping down on the already crimson soaked ground. With another slice, Arturius' helmet was ripped off his head. Still, the proud Harbinger did not waver as he thrust the Dawnbreaker toward the dagger filled grin of the gargoyle like creature.

He was only able to cut his cheek, catching Harkon by surprise over the burning pain. Other Dawnguard rushed to the elf's defense but were quickly cut by a barrage of frost needles turning them into pincushions. Arturius was horrified at what he witnessed. His foe seized advantage and back handed the elf into the wall. Harkon stood triumphantly, putting a heavy foot down on the carved chest armor. More blood poured out, now creating a small pool on the ground.

“You have spirit,” Harkon complimented. “Spirit that I will drain from you until you are an empty husk. I was thinking of sending you to the afterlife but that seems too easy.” He stared down at the helpless Dunmer below his foot, pondering what to do. “I suppose you would make a good thrall. A personal blood hound.”

“You talk too much,” Arturius grinned through bloody teeth.

“And after I rip out your tongue, you will not be talking at all!”

Harkon knelt down and ripped him off the ground, making his legs dangle in the air. He tilted the dark elf's neck to the side, exposing the throbbing artery that made his fangs drip with anticipation. “Embrace Oblivion!”

Harkon gasped as he released Arturius. He looked down to see a glowing blade sticking from his chest. “Told you that...that you talked too much,” Arturius managed to cough out.

The Dawnbreaker was violently torn out, making Harkon clutch his chest frivolously and began so fall onto his knees. Serana walked around to let him know who struck the fatal blow. “Serana...Your own...father?”

She looked at him with hatred that burned more than the hand holding the sword. “A father would never do what you did to me.” For the first time in her life, Harkon showed fear toward her instead of the other way around. No longer would be a pawn in her father's cruel game. She brought the thrumming sword up and watched the horror in his eyes as the Dawnbreaker sunk all the way into his gasping mouth. A fountain of black ooze covered Serana as she let go of the hilt. She fell backwards as her father burst into white flames, right into Arturius' arms who held her close. What was left of Harkon was a pile of ash with the blade sitting on top. It quivered with power but each pulse faded more and more, like a dying candle.

“Is...Is he dead?”

Arturius nodded as he squeezed her fingers. “Your hand...It feels like it's on fire.”

“Your sword is more powerful than I thought,” she laughed but rather sadly. “Didn't even need the damn bow.”

Arturius scoffed with amusement as he stroked Serana's hair that was soaked with viscus blood. “Could have done this from the beginning.”

The battle weary elf coughed, forcing him to hock out crimson spit. He looked down at his ruined armor but realized without it, his ribcage would have been torn open with ease. Using what little strength he had left, he sutured the lesions with restoration magic to ameliorate the almost fatal wounds.

“Are you hurt at all?” he asked without the taste of blood intruding.

The vampire simpered as she shook her head. “Nothing you can fix.”

The Dunmer was confused by what she meant until the flashback of Nova holding his sword came to mind. “Oh no...” He quickly turned her around and instead of her soft, amber eyes, they were white and cloudy. “No, no,. Gods, no!” Arturius held her tight, wishing that there was something else she could have done. “Why did you?!”

“You being dead wasn't the better choice in the matter,” Serana stated calmly, without any regret in her voice.

Arturius slammed his metal fist in the ground. “I should have been stronger.”

“For someone who is not even three decades old losing to one of the first vampires in existence? You're lucky I was there to save you.”

Arturius was at a loss of words when he tried to speak up. Instead, he just held onto the blind struck vampire, proud of what she did. When he gave her a kiss on the forehead, a tear fell down, passing from his cheek to hers.

Aela was still in a daze as she shoved Vilkas off of her. Realizing she was naked, she tore a curtain down to provide some modesty. She looked over to where Farkas now was, realizing the body has been moved and another injury to his abdomen. The spear of ice still hadn't melted and with a heavy heart, moved Farkas to his side to drive out the stake. The sickening break of bones made the huntress sick to her stomach.

He reeked of necromancy and was furious he would be used as a meat puppet. Aela fell to her knees and brushed the sandy hair away from his face, smiling softly while trying to keep her eyes from watering. A hand rested on her shoulder, startling her slightly only to look up to see her two shield-brothers and the vampire with grim expressions on their faces.

“He died the way he wanted,” Vilkas said with a cracking voice.

“With a sword in his hand and as a true Nord,” Arturius added with honor.

Isran and what was left of the Dawnguard were cleaning up by lopping off the heads of the blood suckers to make sure they didn't come back. “So I guess that prophecy isn't coming true now?” the Redguard demanded to know.

“My father and all his cohorts are dead. So I guess you are correct.”

Isran gripped his bloody warhammer tightly as he shook his head. “Sure this wasn't for your succession? Kill the king to get the throne?”

Arturius growled when he grabbed hold of Isran by the steel collar, lifting him up in the air with one hand. “You dare challenge the sacrifice she made?!”

Isran didn't struggle or showed any fear despite his feet dangling. “She killed someone she hated. Can't call that a sacrifice. I lost damn near the whole Dawnguard regiment!”

Arturius threw him back in the same manner Harkon did to the Companions, knocking him out instantly. Not one of the survivors dared come to their leader's defense as they felt they tempted their lives enough as is.

“Let's go,” Arturius ordered his two shield-siblings as he carried Serana in his arms. “Need to honor Farkas and the life that he lived.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just fixed up some typos is all.


	40. Sealed Fate

The funeral for Farkas was lavish, enough to rival any king in terms of respect. The body was prepped well by those who knew their job and laid to rest with his sword on his chest. Although it was customary for the Harbinger to light the pyre, Arturius gave that honor to Vilkas. The Nord looked at his mirror image and with a heavy heart, set ablaze the funeral mound.

The forge glowed brighter than ever as the flames enveloped the brave Companion. Everyone gave their last respects before heading off to the tavern to further honor the fallen one through drink and song. Vilkas stayed longer, watching until there was nothing but ashes left. The noon sun turned into the early evening, as he stood like a statue the whole time.

“Till we meet again, brother.”

The tavern was smoky from the miniature bonfire that kept the cold, night air at bay while the guests enjoyed their drinks and food. All except for the somber Vilkas and Arturius who sat quietly while Aela was working herself to drunken stupor.

“So where's that gal ya been bangin'?” the huntress asked Arturius after she downed another mug of cold ale. “Haven't seen her since you dumped her at Marthal.”

“She had to be on her own,” Arturius corrected with a growl as he tore a chunk of bloody rare meat off the ribs. “I didn't leave her.”

“Betta to have love and lost than to neva have loved at all,” Aela quoted with a belch. “But the best way to get ova a woman is to get under one.”

“Shut the hell up.”

Vilkas shook his head as his barely nibbled on his chicken. “She'll return.”

Aela was trying to stifle her snicker but erupted into a throatful fit of laughter. “Love advice from you? Every new moon, you bed a different woman.”

“Doesn't change that what I said is true.” He lifted his gloomy eyes to meet his Harbinger's. “The way she sacrificed her sight and killed her father to save you...That's love, plain and simple.” That was the last thing he said before excusing himself from the table, leaving behind the uneaten food that Aela snagged.

When Arturius finished, he retreated back to Jorrvaskr. The master bedroom was large but kept it simple. Instead of the lavish décor, there was but a simple cot with some furs and furniture that consisted of a table and a chair that the elf made himself out of a fallen tree. The only item noteworthy was the first sword Kodlak had since he before he was Harbinger. Despite the months of absence with the Companions, it still shone like the day it was forged.

The Dunmer laid on his cot, staring up at the ceiling with thoughts circling through his head like a wolf to its prey. The biggest concern was toward Serana and if the elf could help her. Which begged the question of rather she would be grateful or resentful. The two of them never talked about it in depth like it was a shameful secret to never see the light of day.

When the door thundered from someone pounding on it, Arturius snapped to attention. Before he could even put his feet on the ground, Aela busted through, nearly knocking the door from the hinges. “By the Eight, what the he-?”

“Dragon.”

* * *

Nova lost track on how many times she counted the bricks in her cell. It was either 1,171 or 1,172. Before the prisoner could finish the latest round to determine the tie breaker, the black haired guard who escorted Nova to her trial was approached by a fellow guard.

“Lydia!” he gasped between breaths from running. “A dragon!”

“Another one?!” The look of fear was predominant in her voice as the two of them hurried out of the dungeon.

When the heavy clunking of their metal boots echoed into silence, Nova went to the corner and pulled hard on a loosened brick. She had little concern for the news and focused on the task at hand. It had been weeks since she started this project for escape. Just as the prisoner raised the crude stone to smash the lock, a voice rang out in the hallway.

“You be seeking freedom but no one can truly escape their fate.”

Nova froze as her eyes narrowed with rage. “The hell are you doing here, elf?”

A black cloaked figure emerged from the shadows, smiling ever so slightly as she withdrew the hood. “You strayed from the path of your destiny. Your position as Listener be forfeit but that be not the end.”

Nova dropped the brick as she lunged at the bars, her fingers barely within grasp of the Altmer. “Tsk, tsk.” Arazel clicked her tongue as she shook her head, making the dreadlocks slither like snakes. “Told you before; rage will be your undoing.”

“What the fuck do you want from me?!” Nova screamed as she shook the bars of her cage, wishing she had the strength to tear it free from the walls. “Tell me!”

“Open your ears and you would know it be not what I want but what the world needs.” The mage procured a key, dangling it front of Nova in a tantalizing manner. “Do you have the means to accept your face through penance of labor or through punishment on the executioner's block?”

Nova's nostrils flared before she started chuckling. “If you think for two seconds I will be forgiven, Sheogorath must be who you worship.”

Arazel smiled as she dropped the key but stepped on it when the Nord scrambled to retrieve it. “I must warn you before you make the choice set before you.”

Nova glared up at the mage. “Just tell me,” she demanded through gritted teeth.

“Be careful not to be that which you kill,” Arazel warned with a chill in her voice.

With a whoosh of her robes, the elf disappeared in the darkness. The way she did it almost made Nova jealous but knew it was more magic than skill. With the key in hand, she twisted it into the lock. She rushed out of her confinement but ended up stumbling over an object. At her feet was the silver bow and a quiver of matching arrows. From the looks of it, the very same bow Nazir was supposed to give her but blatantly ignored the gift.

Nova had no idea how the hell that was even possible. Nothing could penetrate the likes of the sanctuary unless you were...invisible. It wouldn't be hard for a mage who is proficient in illusion to sneak in quietly. As Nova picked up the bow, it was lightweight yet durable. Not only better than the ebony bow she had earlier but even the one she took off the dead elf. However, what was more shocking was on the wall hung a set of leather armor. The style of the Dark Brotherhood but opposite colors. What was supposed to be red and black was now blue and white, complimenting her hair and eyes.

Nova didn't know what to think and spent little time doing so as she fitted herself in the new skin. Despite the new garbs, she felt naked and exposed. Everything she wore was suppose to blend into the shadows. This setup screamed for attention but it was still better than the rags she currently had on.

As she stepped outside, the glare from the noon sun burned her eyes. After being in darkness for so long, it was bittersweet to bask in daylight once again. A shadow then soared followed by an ear shattering roar that made thunder sound like a growling stomach. Panic struck citizens were running amok, hiding in shops and temple with guards trying to restore order.

Nova raced along the perimeter of the wall that circled the hold of Whiterun. She didn't keep her eyes on the sky to see where the dragon was but was fixated on the open gates that lead to the open plains. Guards were scrambling to mount some form of defense. Then wind suddenly picked up violently as the dragon swooped down. A blizzard of razored ice slew forth from the maw of the beast, showering the town. A villager that was caught in the open was shredded to pieces. Several arrows were shot at the hovering creature but the beat of its massive wings completely blasted them off trajectory. A pulsating growl emanated from the belly of the beast, sounding like amusement. The group of guards hid behind a shield wall just as the dragon let loose another icy storm from its tooth filled maw. The concussive force knocked them back as if they were a house of cards.

Seizing advantage of the chaos, Nova bolted as fast as her legs would allowed her to. She leapt over the pile of guards and kept going until her lungs begged her to stop. Only did Nova stop when the dragon landed in front of her unexpectedly. It's pale blue scales shimmered in the setting sun. It glared with its one and only orange eye at it towered over Nova. It raised a massive claw and swiped hard at the tiny figure before it.

Nova narrowly missed being eviscerated by the diamond hard talons. Not wanting to go down without a fight, the desperate fugitive set an arrow into the silver bow and struck it right in the nose. A howl of pain erupted from the dragon as it snapped its head back and forth. Another fury of snow and ice raged forth, spraying recklessly.

Nova spun around to cover herself with the ivory cloak as shelter from the storm. The force of the frigid breath stung her ears and neck, amazed that she was able to feel only a chill instead of lagged ice flaying her skin raw. Another silver arrow flew from the bow, straight at the dragon's skull. It ricocheted harmlessly, making Nova curse at herself. Being caught out in the open against a beast of this magnitude was suicide.

Not waiting for another attack, Nova turned and ran back to Whiterun, thinking it was better do die on the headman's block than being mauled and eaten by a giant, flying lizard. Thundering footsteps quaked the ground, making it difficult to run steady. A heavy gust of wind swept over Nova, causing her to stumble into the dirt. The frost dragon took to the air, circling around its prey like a vulture. After regaining her composure, Nova took aim with another arrow, focusing hard as she lead the target.

Before she released, a bolt of fire shot from behind her and nailed the dragon in one of its wings. It tore through its vulnerable flesh, making it fly awkwardly and lose altitude. Nova turned around abruptly to see none other than Arturius rushing toward her. Fearing the worst, she then focused on her aim on the approaching elf.

Arturius halted with his hands held up in the air. “There's a dragon attacking and you want to fight me?!”

Nova stared hard before lowering her weapon. “You want to rush to your demise, be my guest.”

Arturius shook his head as he pointed off into the distance. “I don't think you can outrun that.”

The dragon charged forward like a raging bull. Arturius prepared another spell of fire and launched at the beast's jaws. A fierce shrill nearly shattered their ears. Back up soon arrived as guards and other members of the Companions launched dozen of arrows. With a flap of its good wing, it was able to create a gale to make them miss their mark and fall harmlessly on the ground.

“Are you mad?” demanded a Dunmer that looked like a toothpick compared to Arturius. “We cannot kill it!”

“You want to just sit and watch it burn down Whiterun, Athis?”

“Considering it's a frost dragon, I don't thi-”

“Shut up,” Aela snapped as she notched another arrow from her quiver. “We need to take it out before it makes a meal out of us all.”

Arrows and bolts once again took flight, bombarding the dragon but to no avail as its scales were as thick as armor that simply bounced off. As it closed the gap on the warriors, it leapt up into the air and landed on one of the underlings who was too slow to move and scared to move out of the way. The rest of the Companions circled around the beast, taking pot shots in the hopes their close ranged weapons could pierce through its iron hide. Without warning, the dragon swept its tail to brush aside several of the attackers.

Nova was biding her time, waiting for a window of opportunity to open up. She saw her chance as it opened its mouth to bite down on Vilkas. The former assassin released the drawstring. Before the teeth could clamp down on the warrior, the arrow lodged itself into the only good eye it had. The screeching howl of agony shook the air as the dragon flailed blindly.

“Incredible shot...” Aela gasped, admiring the skill.

However, the wyvern was in a frenzy now, swiping wildly at anything around it. Vilkas was struck despite blocking the claws with his blade, causing him to fly backward and was out cold when he landed. Although blinded, it turned to face Nova who had one last arrow drawn. When she saw the swirling glow of ice and snow forming deep in the dragon's gullet, she held her breath and fired. The raging storm started to dissipate as it started gagging heavily.

Arturius took advantage and charged in with a battle cry as he thrust his sword upward to strike its exposed neck. A fountain of blood showered him as the elf tore free the blade. The dying dragon staggered forward in its death throes. Before collapsing, it let out a guttural noise as if trying to speak some ancient and forgotten language before expiring.

Nova smiled as she wiped the sweat off her brow despite the chill in the air. The victory was short lived as she was tackled by a guard. “You are not going anywhere, assassin!” she yelled before yanking on her feet. Nova was able to turn her eyes over to see Lydia cuffing her wrists tight. “Just because you helped kill a dragon doesn't mean you get away from justice.”

Before anyone could utter a word, a weird crackling sound started to emanate. Everyone had to look around to see where it was coming from. Even the most hardened warriors were terrified was they heard it coming from the dead dragon, fearing it would raise again. Everyone's weapons were prepared. The scaled monster started to glow as if it were a molten rock. Its hide was stripped away and melted down into tendrils of pure energy that swirled and snaked its way on the ground. Anyone standing in the way parted, scared of what it was or might do...All except Nova who held her breath as the energy spiraled up from her feet to the rest of her body, enveloping her entire being. She glowed in the same manner as the dragon did.

When the lambent glare ceased, Nova's vision started to blur and pain shook her to the core. Her knees started to give, causing her to stumble. Before blackness took over her sight, a single word of sorts reverberated in her head, pounding into her like an anvil.

“ _Fus.”_

“That's...That's not possible,” whispered Aela, staring with eyes as wide as her jaw.

“What just...?” Arturius tried to ask but was at a loss of words.

Lydia stared at the unconscious and fragile looking woman before her. “She is...Dragonborn,” she answered grimly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now. I hope you enjoyed the story and there will be a part II called "Between Sins and Salvation" but I do not know when I will get that started. Some business came up so I won't be around for a while. Not sure how long.
> 
> Take care.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this piece of a few years, off and on. It's been a guilty pleasure of mine but I've been too reluctant to share it. This story is still a work in progress as I have been changing all sorts of plot holes, typos, sentence fragments. I then realized I was striving for perfection rather than actually writing. And it was because of that, I was not getting anything done. I hope this first chapter entices some positive response and you enjoy the rest that may come.
> 
> I will be adding a few chapters every week. It should take a few months to get it all in. Enjoy the ride.


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